#and supposed to come across as ''sweet'' and ''loving'' (with a side of ''brought it on himself'' ofc)

[laufire]

problems I have as a jason todd fan:

I do want to read fics where he interacts with the bats. jason + bats are the juiciest relationships out there.

I'd like them to be written in the exact manner I interpret them.

failing that, at the very least, I'd like them *not* to portray a cheerful and unchallenged celebration of boundary violation and infantilization.

[shotmrmiller]

in which johnny gifts the love of his life a sex toy outta nowhere

when you mumble into the phone that you miss him, johnny, he pauses for a second, then tells you he's going to bring you a gift back home. "to keep ye company, hen." after, he locks himself in a bathroom stall and watches you play with yourself until you both come.

but you'd thought he'd bring you a pet. a live animal that needs a cage to be brought across the world, not a long, slim unmarked box.

it's a sex toy. and it's rather large, at that. your hand wraps around the base, fingertips still a good inch apart.

"and i'm supposed to be using that?" his arms wrap around your waist, his thick stubble grazing the sensitive skin of your neck, raising goose flesh.

"don't like it? only had ye in mind, hen." he presses a wet kiss on your fluttering pulse. you've never really talked about toys in your relationship. you don't need them, of course, and johnny more than makes up for the time lost between you two whenever he's home but this?

"i don't know," you mumble. "a bullet would've made more sense, i think. at most a rose." his hands run up your sides, to the swell of your breasts and give you a gentle squeeze. he doesn't believe the tripe of people valuing size over all else, does he? the thing is easily as thick as your forearm and it's corded with veins. and it's uncut. whoever is making these are going to extreme lengths to make it as realistic as possible.

he bucks his hips, prominent bulge in his jeans coming to rest in the small of your back. of course he'd get excited. menace.

"ye willnae have t'use it alone now tha' i'm here. 'sides, i think ye'd look perfect with my pretty kitty stretched thin around it." johnny grabs your hips firmly, creating small divots as his grip tightens. "maybe i'll watch ye fuck yerself on it, hm? lap at yer clit while ye do." liquid heat pools in your belly, pulsing hot between your legs.

he really wants you to use it, given by his ragged breathing and he rutting himself against you. fine. "okay. just, not right now, yeah? i want only you in me." his eyes burn fluorescent as he nods, his large hand cradling your head as he pulls you in for a kiss.

you missed this. the sweet sting of his cock sliding home in your aching cunt, the sharp pinch below your navel when his tip comes to sit snugly against the plug of your womb. you've missed this. missed him.

maybe he'll forget all about that monstrosity sitting in the box.

-

he doesn't. he's bringing it up hours later, his spend still dripping warm on your thighs. johnny cannot be serious.

"course i am, hen." his fingers sweep at the hair stuck to your sweat-slick forehead. "is it a crime to want to see ye split open on some- something else?"

you think nothing of his stutter. "alright," you groan. if that's what he wants. it'll be interesting to see just how much you can take. you'll never tell him that your pussy clenched around nothing at the thought, his cum trickling out faster, pooling on the sheets.

-

it's not warm. the tip of it presses against your swollen entrance, cold in contrast to your heated flesh. johnny watches you swallow a gasp, your trembling hands reaching for his as you slide down an inch, two, three. johnny's cum is wonderful lube, but the searing burn- the size of toy is overwhelming, your walls being wrenched apart as you glide down further. johnny presses a prickly kiss on your cheek, cooing in your ear all the while his clever fingers draw gentle circles on your clit. "focus on breathin', bonnie. yer tensin' up."

desire begins to bubble beneath your skin, pleasure causing your muscles to warm and slacken, and after a long couple of minutes, you find yourself at the base.

but then johnny grabs your hips from behind and pulls- oh. "that's it." if you'd thought the toy had originally been in your stomach, it's now in your throat. "pretty as a peach, hen. jus' wha' i wanted to see." a shiver dances up your spine, notches trembling as you get used to the unforgiving stretch of the toy. his breath warms the side of your neck. "on yer go."

you come around it no less than three times, leaving it milky and johnny cleans it up with his mouth before he cleans you up.

-

the girth of it is something you'll never get used to but it does get easier. when johnny goes back to work, he tells you that all he asks for are videos of you using it. for his collection, he greedily says.

you send him as many as you can, no matter the hours. just a quick nsfw text before getting his thumbs up and away it goes. it's incredibly fun. the relationship hadn't been dull by any means, but this just feels invigorating. you feel rejuvenated. that johnny is your biggest cheerleader while using it is such a bonus.

you oughta marry him. maybe you'll elope the next time he's home. but when the next time comes, johnny calls you instead of messaging you the usual be home soon text.

and it sends you reeling.

bonnie. the toy treat ye well while i was gone?

no better than you could me, but yeah. i'm still sore from using it in the last video i sent you.

that's great. if ye like the toy then ye'll love the real thing, i ken. we'll be there in 10.

[seungfl0wer]

*Lee know Calling You Clingy*

Paring: Lee Know x Reader (GN)

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Arguing, Cursing, A sort of happy ending?

This is part of a series find the others here:

Bangchan, Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin

-🩵

Cutting up some veggies as you watched your boyfriend cook dinner, he was always so handsome like this so in his zone. As you got done cutting you brought it over to him. Standing by his side as he went to grab something you would hand it to him, He moved you would move. You thought to yourself how sweet this moment was however that’s not exactly what he was thinking. He was getting frustrated cause as much as he really loved when you helped the kitchen was too small for you both to be doing stuff.

“Y/n can you please give me a little bit of space” he said his tone sounding annoyed. You looked up at him feeling bad for bothering him so you slumped back into the chair. “Why don’t you set the table?” He asked seeing your reaction. You nod feeling a bit upset as you did so. You both sat down to eat finishing the delicious food fast before plopping yourselves down on the couch to watch a movie.

You wanted to make it up to him for bothering him while he was in his element so you wrapped your arms around him snuggling up to him. He let out a small sigh as you did so, you looked up to the man who was trying to focus on the movie. His face stern looking still with a hint of that annoyance from earlier. “Hey babe is everything alright? You seem on edge today?” You said softly trying to read his face. “It’s fine” he said blankly still keeping his attention on the tv.

“Love please, talk to me I can tell something’s up. Is it work? Did I do something?” You went on rambling before he cut you off “y/n please. Can we just watch the damn movie.” He hissed his voice harsher than it was supposed to be “can’t you at least tell me what’s wrong?” You said not wanting to drop it, although you probably should have. “For fuck sakes y/n!” He said turning off the tv and getting up “you have been- been so clingy lately. You have been up my ass since we came back from the US. Why can’t I just get a few minutes of just peace. First you won’t leave me alone while I’m cooking and now I can’t even watch a damn movie without fucking 50 questions!” His voice echoed across the room.

Your heart was pounding trying all you had not to cry “I’m fucking sorry I haven’t seen my boyfriend in almost a month, god fucking forbid me for wanting to spend time with him!” You hissed back. You stood up quickly walking to your room, you grabbed a bag and packed some clothes as Minho continued behind you. “It’s one thing to fucking miss me y/n but it feels like you’d want to sit on my lap while I take a fucking shit cause you “miss me so much” you act like we didn’t talk at all which again had me no fucking time to myself!”

You put your bag over your shoulder “Fine you want alone time so fucking bad! Then be alone Minho!” You said storming towards the front door. Your mind raced as you could feel the tears pulling at the corners. No. No crying he doesn’t get to see that. “Good! That’s exactly what I fucking wanted, I’m happy you get the fucking message now!” He said still yelling behind you. You bit your lip his words cutting deeper each time he spoke. You turned around quickly feeling the tears coming “fuck you Minho! I’m- I’m fucking done!” You spat almost running out the door you could hear him before you were out “me fucking too!”

You had gone to a friend’s house to stay she held you close rubbing your back trying to console you. Everything hurt, your head was spinning, your eyes red from crying cheeks stained with tears. “Want me to get some of that cake you like so much and we can sit and eat it while watching horror movies” she said smiling “why horror movies?” You said smiling a bit “cause at least dumb men die in it” she laughed making you laugh too. She was always such a good friend knowing exactly what to say and do to make you feel better.

After Minho calmed down a bit he sat back down on the couch. He turned the movie back on but quickly turned it off “damnit, even when they’re not here they ruin it.” He said throwing the remote back down to the table. He laid back on the couch looking up at the ceiling he felt a heaviness in his chest “no I wanted alone time” he said shaking his head “I wanted this..” his words trailed off. “But why’s it feel so bad.” He said with a deep sigh.

He looked at his phone wanting to text you but not daring too. He knew he was out of line but he didn’t want to be the first to admit. Your words ringing in his head though “I’m done.” What did you mean? Were you ending the relationship? The thought of this made a lump in Minhos throat. Surly you weren’t serious right? .. Right??

Almost a week had passed with radio silence on both ends. It wasn’t like either of you didn’t wanna message the other but neither of you wanted to do it first.

You had thought about things a lot, you decided about going home and just staying in the guest room. You knew Minho wasn’t home at the moment and all though your friend had a great idea “just move out while he’s not home, give him the ultimate alone time he wants” you couldn’t afford that right now. And quite frankly why does he get to keep the place and you move?

You walked into your apartment thinking of what exactly to do. Your head spinning a bit from thoughts “what the fuck am I even gonna say?” You said to yourself “are we even together anymore?” You sighed loudly you stood there for a good minute or two before making your way to the bedroom. You scrounged up most of your things moving it into the guest room you felt yourself wanting to cry again “fuck you” you said softly. You locked the door, put on some music and just curled up into a ball. You had fallen asleep quickly the feeling of being in your home making you sleep easier.

Minho had come home late walking through the door to see your shoes on the floor. His face looked confused before he heard music playing “did she come home?” He said to himself making his way to what was your shared bedroom. He looked over it seeing you had taken stuff he felt his heart sink. He saw the small light coming from under the guest rooms door making the thoughts of you moving disappear. He walked to the door trying to open it realizing it was locked he was about to knock before stopping himself.

He signed a bit walking to the living room, he slumped into the couch all sorts of emotions whirling in his head. He slowly fell asleep only to be woken up by the sounds of you coming out of the room. You quietly tried sneaking to the door your belly rumbling. He quickly turned his head to meet your eyes locking. You both were still for a second before he let out a soft “leaving?”

You shook your head no “7/11” you said trying to keep it short. You made your way to the door putting your shoes on “I- I can make you something.” His voice barely a whisper at this point. “No thank you” you said before leaving out the door. This is how it stayed for about a week. Minho tried talking to you and you just giving him one word answers. He came home from work you’d slink back into your room. He’d come into the kitchen, you’d leave just as quickly.

He started doing small things for you like leaving you breakfast in the morning, or buying your favorite drink to keep in the fridge. He usually did these things always being thoughtful in these sweet kind of actions. It made your heart hurt more. One of the days he made you your favorite lunch, he didn’t do it often because it meant going about an hour away to the restaurant to pick it up but he did. He did in the morning before he had to be at work driving there and back before his already long day.

When you saw it in the morning you started to bawl like a baby. Minho had come back home after realizing he left his phone on the counter. You were curled up on the couch listening to some of his solo music crying into a pillow. He stood there not wanting to bother you but wanting nothing more than to hold you and make things right. He started making his way towards you before you heard him your head shot up eyes meeting his. Your body moved fast tackling him almost knocking you both down.

“Min I’m sorry- I’m so sorry” you choked out tears streaming down your face ugly crying “I’m sorry for being clingy I’m sorry for being a bother- I’ll change I’ll give you more space I’m sorry I just can’t- I can’t do this anymore I miss you- everything hurts-“ you said between sobs and wiping the snot that was running down. Minho couldn’t help but cry at your words, he really had broken you. “No- y/n please don’t change, this all was because of me I’m the asshole I’m the one that should be apologizing.” He said his chest heaving.

“Don’t change please I’m sorry for calling you clingy please- I miss you, cling to me. Hold onto me for dear life please I need you..” he voice getting stuck in his throat. You’ve never seen him like this, he always kept his emotions under control but he couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Life has no meaning if I can’t spend it with you, if I can’t have you by my side with that shining smile of yours. The smile that I haven’t seen in how long. I ruined everything. I hurt you I ruined us things won’t ever be the same.”

His voice horse crying even harder than you now “you should hate me, you should want me to jump off a bridge. I don’t know- I don’t understand why you’re apologizing.” He was rambling on. You felt your heart just braking again, he was so defeated and part of you wanted nothing more than to tell him this is exactly what he wanted. And you’d be right, but you just wanted him back, wanted things back to how they were.

You pulled Minho down to the couch both of you sobbing trying to calm yourselves. You both cried for almost a full half hour before you spoke “Things.. things will be different either way.. you.. we gotta build that trust back up” you said softly clearing your throat. “Let’s start off slow ok?” You said lifting his head to make eye contact with you.

“Well start small and work on things hmm?” You said repeating yourself. He nodded “can.. can you come back to our room?” He said whipping his nose “eventually, I will let’s start off with just trying to talk through some things ok?” You said kissing his cheek. “I love you Minho but what you said hurt and will still probably hurt in the future. But I really do love you and would rather work on things and hopefully fix it than just to through it away so easily.” You said pulling him into a hug.

“Anything, I’ll do anything to show you how sorry I am.” He said his words muffled by your shoulder. You nod sitting there in silence both of you trying to gather your thoughts and catch your breath.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

[etherealrin]

⋆˙⟡ he's a 10!

you call highschool!rin past midnight, accidentally confessing your attraction towards a certain number 10 that plays soccer.

warnings: slight ooc rin, mentions of cat unalivement (don't worry about it...) rin's a dry texter, pretty much just pure fluff // wc: 1.2k

note: i hope this makes sense the idea just came to me randomly heh & reader is a girl

you don't know why you're up at 2 am on a friday night. no, you guess it was technically saturday morning now. you should've been exhausted from school and sleeping, so why do you find yourself sitting inbetween the fuzzy blankets on your bed, whispering intently towards your phone as you facetimed your seatmate itoshi rin?

so maybe, you harbored a tiny crush on the jaw-droppingly attractive raven haired boy who sat next to you during class. maybe, you had fallen for his stoic yet somehow sweet demeanor (you swear he was friendlier around you and he had never called you lukewarm yet, but perhaps you were just delusional.) heck, you weren't even close enough friends with him to warrant such a midnight call, yet here you were. you had to keep your voice low, as to not disturb your family, who were all dozing off somewhere in dreamland by now. your windows are open, just a crack, and you're keenly aware that it's pitch blackness outside, save for the streetlight illuminating the front of your house.

"i mean, i was kind of in the middle of playing a horror game before you called," rin's voice echoed through your airpods.

"shoot, i don't mean to bother you!" you reply, voice hushed. "you can hang up right now, sorry!"

"it's fine, i don't think you're a bother." you peer at your phone, catching how rin's face is illuminated by the bright light coming out from his pc's monitor. you hope that on his side, he can't see much of you in the dimness of your room. you'd die if he caught the hot pink blush creeping across your face at his words.

"itoshi, you're actually a really nice person," you find yourself telling him. "i don't get why everyone labels you as standoffish and cold." you're absentmindedly fiddling with an avocado plushie on the edge of your bed, unaware that it was showing on camera.

"maybe it's because i threatened to unalive the cat of the last girl who asked me out?" rin offered, a hint of a smile in his voice.

"rin, what? please don't come after mine!" you exclaim. oops, had you spoken a bit too loud? well, it didn't seem like you had woken anyone up, so you continued. "i swear floof doesn't bite!" floof was the name of your very fluffy and very adorable kitten.

"well it's not like i'd say that to every girl who confesses to me," he notes. you wonder how his attitude could do a 360 so fast, he truly was an enigma to you.

"say, rin, do you like anyone?" you don't know what you're thinking, but the words spill out of your mouth anyway. you blush even harder, mentally screaming. did you really just ask the boy you liked that question? maybe you were asleep and dreaming, because there was no way you would have the guts to ask him so directly. an apology follows immediately from your end. "i didn't mean to ask such a personal question, i don't know what i was thinking!" you hurriedly stammer, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. you doubted that rin loved anything other than soccer, at any rate. actually, scratch that, did he even like soccer? sometimes you thought the boy with the number 10 on his jersey played like he loathed the game, and wanted to murder it or destroy someone's legacy.

"uhm," rin sounded like he was unsure. it was a contrast to his usual assured self and confident tone. "i'll tell you if you tell me?"

huh? you were at the verge of screaming for real this time. how could you answer rin, met with a question like that? you suppose you had brought it onto yourself, but you really were unprepared for the situation.

"i- uh," you hesitiate, unable to meet the piercing teal gaze on your phone right now. screw it, should you just tell him? "i like guys who are a 10," you whisper. oh god, you wanted to jump out your window and end it right there. of all the stupid indirect answers you could have given itoshi rin, you managed to choose what you think was likely the worst of them all. your voice was barely audible, but evidently rin had heard you loud and clear from the way he took a sharp breath.

"meaning?" rin prods, as if he were actually invested in who you liked.

"i don't know, like" you think you're starting to ramble now. "kinda like if they wear number 10 on their soccer jersey and stuff?" you prayed that maybe rin would think you weren't thinking straight due to lack of sleep and pretend that this conversation had never transpired once you went back to school next monday.

you don't know that on the other end of the line, itoshi rin was grinning like an idiot.

"i'll text you a picture of who i like," rin said suddenly, cutting your call before you could react (before he could change his mind about what he was going to do.) and you truly wish you could evaporate, turn into water vapor or something, and become nothing. he probably hates you now. floof was likely next on his hit list of felines to dismember.

you sigh into your hands, burying yourself under the warmth of your covers, when your phone lights up.

ping! you have one message and one attachment from rin! the display informs you.

your fingers ghost over the notification, scared to open it. but you steel your nerves, brace for the worst, and push down, squeezing your eyes shut. it takes about 30 seconds before you crack them open.

"i like her." he had sent. a picture of a...black screen followed? you press on it and the darkness engulfs your screen. you could see nothing in it, except for your own reflection staring quizzically back at you. your eyes widen with realization. there's no way, you think.

"is this a joke?" you type with trembling fingers and nervously hit the send button, trying your hardest to ignore the pounding in your chest. your heart was going haywire, and it only got worse as the bubble appeared in the chat, indicating that rin was typing.

"well, i didn't have any pictures of you." his reply reads. you want to explode into a thousand pieces, but to your credit you don't and start typing again. to your surprise, your phone buzzes once more. rin had double texted you.

"don't you see yourself in it?" he had sent. your heart now threatens to run away from your body and join the circus or something, as you stare at your crush's confession. you're aware of the stupidly wide grin tugging at your lips right now.

and because you're an idiot, you send:

"i've actually had a crush on you since we moved seats to sit together."

to which he replies:

"...same."

when you plop down into your seat beside him that next monday, he offers you a half smile and a "hey."

"morning, rin," you greet him. he knows, you think. you wonder how awkward it'll be now.

"do you want to come to my game later? heard you liked the number 10 jersey, it just so happens i have a spare i can lend you," rin offers, eyes sparkling with anticipation you've never seen before.

"of course," you answer, immediately understanding what he wanted. "maybe i should cheer loudly for that number 10 as well? rin raises an eyebrow, feigning confusion, but he's profusely grinning and fails to hide it.

you're vaguely aware of your classmates staring at your desks, wondering why itoshi rin was having a seemingly friendly conversation with the girl next to him, and why both of your cheeks were dusted a faint pink.

a/n: i think rin's the type to confess his love in a roundabout way like this. also the avocado plushie part i was running out of ideas okay and BOOM i see this avocado from miniso my friend got for my birthday like two years ago.

masterlist!

[kumkaniudaku]

101

Summary: When Asia's in need of a few lessons regarding matters of the bedroom, her colleague and friend, Kelvin, offers his expertise.

Pairing: Kelvin Harrison Jr. x Black!OC

Warnings: Mature Content (18+)

Word Count: 5.5k

MASTERLIST

"So…you come here often?" 

In a crowded bar tucked into a rapidly changing side of town, Asia sat perched on a barstool, listening to yet another potential suitor court her uninterested best friend. They always approached with unearned confidence, dropping some variation of the same tired lines only to be tossed back into a sea of misfit boy toys to make room for the next poor, unfortunate soul. 

Sabrina loved the attention, though. At a statuesque 5 '10", she didn't mind being worshipped like Aphrodite and choosing her favorite from the litter until she was bored and ready for the next man up. Asia loved it, too. Watching men fall all over themselves in a way they'd never done for her was weirdly empowering. She didn't get to take home any of the night's trophies, but she did get to listen to the stories of every Tom, Dick, and Devante that passed in and out of her friend's life. 

Barely interested, Sabrina sipped through a tiny black straw and regarded her latest contestant with tipsy indifference. "Not really. Why?" 

"Uh…I don't know. Just, uh, just wondering?" 

"Mhm. I'm drinking tequila." A loud slurp from liquid long evaporated from scratched glass filled with more ice than anything else brought the young man's attention to her hands and then back to her face. She offered him her best sweet smile and proposed, "Get me another?" 

Asia had never seen a man getting absolutely nothing in return move so fast to wedge himself between a handful of patrons vying for the bartender's attention. 

Sabrina let off a cackle loud enough to eclipse various pockets of chatter and music as she elbowed a laughing Asia. "That's, what, three for you tonight?" Asia asked, still swirling around the pity Jack and Coke she was gifted an hour ago. "One more, and you might get the record." 

"Girl, I'm not drinking that shit. I'm supposed to be meeting Eric later tonight, and I can't be drunk like I was last time. It's been a month, and I need that." 

"He's back from Portugal?" 

"Fuckin' finally," Sabrina gushed. "I don't mean to be a 'my man, my man, my man' ass bitch about a nigga that is not my man, but…" 

Sabrina didn't need to finish. Four years of their on-off whatever the fuck had been as much a part of Asia's life as it was Sabrina's. She'd been there for all the dates, all the late-night phone calls that pulled her friend away from plans, every blow-up and breakup, and the eventual reconciliation that would, once again, leave her as a lonely party of one. Unfortunately, she never got any of the fabled mind-blowing sex that came from their strange arrangement. Only the stories and the occasional video if Sabrina was feeling spicy. 

Asia downed the rest of her drink along with the jealousy brewing in her chest and slid the glass across the bar for someone to collect later. "Well, hey, as long as you're happy." Happy was relative. She really wanted to say as long as you're willing to keep your business out of my bubble, but swallowed the thought before it could breach her lips. "Should I keep my phone off DND just in case?" 

No immediate answer made Asia pause her casual scan of the room to look over at Sabrina, who'd all but buried her nose into her cell phone to grin at whatever was keeping her preoccupied. 

She called out to her friend again. "Sabrina!"

"Huh," she sputtered out, snapping from her Eric-mania. "N-no, I should be good. We're on good terms. Or I'll just go to my sister's house. Did I tell you she moved? Oh, shit. Let me take this."

Sabrina didn't leave much time for objection, though Asia couldn't say she would offer any if given the chance. She was used to flying solo. She liked moving around the city as a lone wolf, looking for any cocktail lounge or off-the-beaten-path late-night spot to slink into and observe the happenings of 20 and 30-somethings looking for something or someone to get into before trudging home when daylight came back around. 

The night was still young enough to hit up a cigar bar her old work friend Marcus had told her about. She didn't smoke, but the brown liquor was always smooth, and their food wasn't half bad. 

While she sat trying to get the bartender's attention to close her tab, a presence at her side made themselves known with an accidental shove that nearly knocked her off balance. 

"Gahdamn," she hollered, gripping the bar top for dear life to avoid starting a dangerous domino effect. Her mind didn't register the frantic apology from her newest enemy or the way he grabbed her waist to return her to a steady state. All she saw was his smile's familiar, gorgeous gleam when he realized who he'd bumped into just as his night was beginning and hers was coming to a close. "Kelvin?"

He slowly let go of her body and tried to appear taller than he was. "Good, I'm glad you noticed. Thought you might beat my ass. I know how you get down." 

"I still should. What the hell are you doin' in here, and did they card you at the door?" 

"Ha-ha. I'm a grown-ass man. Don't let the stature fool you." His fake laugh gave way to a real one shared between coworkers who cared enough about their jobs not to get fired but never enough for rapid advancement. 

Life as a creative in a city where just about everyone was a "creative" had a way of uniting strangers from all walks of life. When Asia stepped into her new agency searching for exciting new clients and an actual team of people to see in the office a few times a week, she didn't expect to be accosted by the bright-eyed Associate Creative Director who had no business fraternizing with the project management team. But there Kelvin was, half-sitting on her desk with his Nike-clad foot swinging while he rattled off lunch spots within walking distance for them to check out once she was done with her first meeting with HR. 

"You always this chatty," She asked while trying to make sense of her new Macbook. 

Kelvin sported a mischievous smile. "Only with the other Black folks. We gotta stick together. There ain't but six of us, and two of them are married." 

He quickly grew into one of her favorite people to see during the week while they worked side-by-side to meet deadlines and ward off culturally insensitive questions from well-meaning white folks trying to sell products to urban communities. She'd seen him be gregarious during long nights in the office filled with thumbtacks and beer from the bar cart. She'd also sat with him on Teams calls, saying nothing for some of the day while he quietly worked through lines to inspire consumers to do what they did best. 

But she'd never seen him outside the strict confines of work culture. In public, they were free to cross the lines of office politics and show their true selves. Asia's true self included a departure from relaxed trousers and professional shoes to make way for short shorts and sky-high heels that accentuated a figure Kelvin couldn't help but notice. 

His eyes slowly swept over her body while he finished his thought. "I'm in here because my boy just got his heart broken and needed some comfort. What you doin' in here? I ain't know Asia knew how to have fun!" 

"Nah, I can have fun. I just don't like y'all like that." 

"That is abundantly clear," he laughed. "You haven't had lunch with me in like two weeks. We got a problem?" 

Asia chuckled at him, trying to press her while she pulled cash out of her purse to pay the bartender. "I knew you missed me. I've been busy. Kam's been on my ass about the Moet timelines, and I'm trying to slim down a little bit for my birthday trip anyway. I can't keep eating smash burgers with you three times a week." Kelvin listened as he lazily pushed her hand away as soon as he could reach it and replaced her payment method with his. 

He lightly bit down on his bottom lip, trying not to look down at her legs again. "You definitely doin' that," he complimented, a flirtatious lilt thick in his delivery. "Make it up to me tonight." 

"How?" 

"Kick it with us. We won't be out that long." Kelvin used his head to gesture toward a table to people Asia assumed to be his friends. Two girls and three guys, leaving her to make the group even. He caught her trepidation and stepped a little closer so that she could see his face clearly under blinking strobe lights. "I got you. We can leave at any time if you want. Drinks on me."

Asia rolled her eyes. "I'm not askin' you to do that." 

"You don't need to. I aim to please, love. C'mon."

Part of her wanted to refuse his invitation and use Sabrina as her scapegoat. After all, she did step out as one half of a pair. 

Then, the other part directed her attention to the tall woman conspicuously making her way to the front entrance, her phone pressed to her ear, and an Uber waiting as her chariot to carry her away from the ball and to a man too shady to ever be a prince. 

Kelvin stood awaiting her answer, his eyebrows doing a bit of a cha-cha as he made them wiggle. 

Fuck it. "Alright. Start with a lemon drop, and make sure to introduce me as your favorite coworker. Really do your big one."

"Still demanding outside of the office. I like that." He bit his lip again, this time checking her out without shame. When she returned his brazen act with one of her own, he chuckled and flagged down someone who could really get the night going. "Aye, my man! Let me get something for my favorite coworker."

By the time he'd ushered her over to his group of way too cool art friends, Kelvin had dropped the coworker portion of Asia's title and shortened it to "my favorite."

They all sat huddled at a small booth in the back of the bar, nearly stacked on top of each other. It was Kelvin's idea for her to sit sandwiched between him and his homeboy, all but forcing her against his warm chest for any chance at comfort. It was his idea for the group to continue their conversation about sex and relationships even though it had fizzled to focus on a Black sitcom hierarchy debate. And it was absolutely his idea for him and Asia to hang back together once the other members of the group had set off to find comfort as pairs for the night. 

She could only take credit for dropping the frills in their cocktails and settling for straight shots of her good friend, vodka. 

Kelvin tossed back shot number he didn't know and let his mouth curl into a devious smirk while he watched Asia reapply clear lip gloss that caught the light just right. "You use dating apps, or you more of an organic meet-up type of lady?"

"I have profiles, but I can't tell you the last time I used one. And nobody is checking for me outside." Asia laughed quietly at the idea of someone approaching her for any reason other than asking for directions. 

"What's so funny?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. That you think people are interested in me to the point that they're swiping right of whatever the fuck."

"So you just be on there for fun? Nothing is happening?" He scoffed to himself and plucked a lukewarm fry from a basket in front of him. "You're at least hooking up."

"I've never hooked up in my life."

Asia tried to rush past her drunk confession, tried to push away the words just as quickly as they'd entered the atmosphere, but Kelvin had already heard them. 

He nodded, mostly to himself, then shrugged. "That's okay. Nothin' wrong with it. You waiting for marriage?" 

"Fuck no," she scoffed. "I'm just waiting for someone nice enough to not make it weird. It's embarrassing enough being 30 and a virgin. Not really trying to make it weird by discussing it over appetizers."

"Like we doin' now?" 

Asia laughed and finally took her shot while Kelvin watched her with the sheen of drunk thoughts clouding his eyes. He brushed her hair over her shoulder softly, his fingers lingering on her collarbone for a few seconds before he threw his arm over the top of the booth's seat and scooched lower, settling into a comfortable manspread.  

"This is different. You're easy to talk to and not being creepy about it." 

He nodded in understanding. "So somebody nice. What else?"

"I don't know. Somebody willing to teach and be patient. I'm a quick study. I just need the opportunity to learn somewhere safe." Vulnerability shared with a man she only kind of knew personally made Asia shrink in embarrassment as she rushed to clean up her verbal mess. "That's stupid to want, though. Nobody's trynna teach a grown woman how to fuck. I'm cool with missing out."

She'd started to try to cover her tracks so much that she didn't hear when Kelvin spoke back to her until the last words had tumbled from his lips in a broken sentence. 

She doubled back. "Wait. What did you say?"

"I said I'll do it. I'll teach you."

"Teach me what?"

"How to fuck," he said so matter of fact that he sounded like he was talking about his grocery list or errands to run and not having sex. He continued despite the clear look of shock on Asia's face. "Only if you want me to. I'm cool either way."

"I-I mean…I don't���if you want. Maybe we shouldn't –."

He cut in and pointed at her shot glass. "You done or want another one?" Asia sputtered out that she'd had all she could drink in one night, and he nodded, reaching into his back pocket to pluck a credit card from his wallet's inventory. He tapped her hip to silently tell her to let him out, and she followed directions blindly for a reason she couldn't explain. Once he was standing, he looked down at her with a soft smile and kind eyes. "Just think about it and let me know. No pressure."

Asia didn't know what made her text Kelvin after work the following Thursday evening. All she knew was that he told her that his Friday was booked, but Saturday was all hers. 

They agreed on him stopping by at 8:30 p.m., after anybody planning to go out had started their dressing routines and those intent on staying in had wrapped up any reason to leave the house and turned in for the evening. In her mind, that ensured none of her neighbors would see her bringing in a man clearly there for a singular purpose. 

His prompt knock on her apartment door scared her even though she was the one who told him how to access guest parking, gave him a visitor's code, and told him her apartment number. 

Wiping her sweating palms on her pajama shorts, she padded toward the door and took a deep breath before pulling it open. 

He smirked when she came into view. "On the first knock? That's hospitable."

"Shut up," she admonished, though the joke had done its intended job and chipped away at building nerves. "And take off your shoes. There's fresh slippers in the basket if you need 'em."

Kelvin took Asia turning her back to him as an invitation to enter her apartment and to take a gander at the space he'd partially seen in meetings and their solo "work sessions." 

Despite not being a hands-on creative, he could tell she had an appreciation for art. Reyna Noriega art prints and classic hip-hop album covers formed a gallery wall over her couch. A display of CDs that he had no idea people still collected sat stacked by a vintage boombox he was sure cost her a pretty penny. Potted monsteras and a well-loved fiddle leaf fig took up space beside a large window overlooking a bustling street below. It was clear she loved color from the maroon sectional in her quaint living room and the complementary pillows crowded in the corner he usually saw her sit in. He immediately recognized her desk and the lit 'on air' wall sign above it, making him feel like he knew something about her with the present situation carrying the kind of nervousness and uncertainty that typically came with first dates. 

This wasn't a date, though. This was business—an agreement—a short-term arrangement for long-term success. 

Asia cracked the seal on a fresh bottle of water before sliding it across the island to Kelvin, who took a generous sip from his spot in one of her barstools. She watched him intently as she stood on the other side, waiting for less abrupt words to populate her mind. They never came, and she couldn't stand the wait any longer. 

She ran her hand up the back of her head to adjust flyaways beneath her fresh bun before speaking. "We should discuss a few ground rules…if that's cool." 

"It's your world," he laughed. "I'm just here to help. By all means, go ahead."

Asia took a deep breath and then reached for her phone to navigate to the unnecessarily detailed note she spent the previous night typing out. "Okay. To start, I need to see your most recent test results, and they can't be older than three months from today's date." 

"Cool," Kelvin shrugged, tapping at his phone screen before placing it back on the counter. "Those are from, like, two months ago. I can get you something more recent if that isn't enough."

A soft buzz in her hand signaled the delivery of his test results neatly packed in a PDF sent via iMessage, making her swallow a lump in her throat. Things were getting too real. She continued. "I'll…give those a look," she started, semi-impressed that he was keeping up with his health in that manner. "Next, no bondage or sub/dom play. I'm not into it. I haven't tried it, but I just know I'm not."

"Me neither. What's the next one?"

"We gotta use protection every time." 

"Copy." 

"No staying the night." 

"I don't like it over here that much anyway."

Amusement tugged at Kelvin's lips while he watched her scroll further down her list. Deep brown skin. She had narrow hips that almost duped you into thinking there was no ass behind her. Strong thighs. A beautiful smile. A good head on her shoulders. Perfect lips. Pretty —

Kelvin blinked back into the present when he heard his name called. "Say that again. My fault."

Asia rolled her eyes and spoke a little louder. "We can't change our behavior at work. No one can know about this."

"Bet." He was so nonchalant all the time, so unbothered by the circumstances no matter the topic at hand. Deadlines didn't matter. Client gripes and regroup after regroup did little to deter him. He'd always shrug his shoulders under one of his many distressed hoodies and proceed unphased. Kelvin took another sip of water before answering the question he sensed in Asia's eyes. "I'm rolling off of the only work we share anyway, so we won't interact that much."

"Woah, how come?" Asia caught her reaction and tried to dial her sadness back a bit. "I mean, you're… you're not leaving, right?"

Kelvin flashed a toothy grin while adjusting the blue velour durag tied tight on his head. "Nah, I'm still around for now. I raised my hand to take on some pitch work for a challenge. I'm bored." He paused to turn his lips up in an accusatory pout. "You gon' miss me, huh?"

"Stop trying to distract me. Which brings me to my next rule: no kissing during sessions or otherwise. Let's try to keep this as platonic as possible."

"Oh, nah." The one rule Asia assumed Kelvin would accept with no pushback was the one that gave him the most pause. He twisted his face into one of instant disapproval. "I don't have sex with people I can't kiss or hang out with. I know it's just physical, but I still need to like you as a person. Nah. We gotta kiss. Go get some food every once in a while. Something. Nah."

He was adamant and unyielding in his need for physical and emotional intimacy despite their arrangement not being one meant for the comforts of a relationship. 

Asia noted his gripe and raised a hand in surrender while she backspaced in her note. "Okay, okay. We can kiss. I'm probably not that great at it, but — "

"You don't need to worry about what you're good at with me. Nobody goes to swim lessons expected to know how to swim. I'm teaching, and you're learning. That's the point of all this."

Stunned silence dropped Asia's jaw for a half second until she had enough nerve connections in her brain to pick it up and try to salvage her image. Kelvin tried to hide his smile behind his near-empty plastic water bottle while he watched her with satisfaction dancing in his eyes.  For someone usually so poised, so sure of themselves as they moved through the tiny world that overlapped between them, Asia was flustered easily. A crack in the armor. Endearing. It made her human to Kelvin, who saw her as a mythical creature filled with unattainable magic. 

Standing, Kelvin pulled his hoodie over his head, a question muffled as he disappeared behind thick fabric. "Can I ask you some stuff, or is this more of an interview? I know I got movie star charm, but I do like a back-and-forth every once in a while. Keeps me humble." 

"Oh, brother," Asia groaned. "Ask what you gon' ask, Kelvin, before I change my mind."

A glimpse at his abdomen as his disrobing incidentally lifted the crisp white tee beneath did all the heavy lifting to stir Asia into crackling embers of desire masked by a deteriorating cool exterior. 

He caught her looking, eyes wide like deer in headlights and winked on his way to plop down on her couch. "This is niiice," he drew out, scooting deeper to get comfortable. Where you get this? Don't let me find out you've been letting me pay for lunch, and you're rich." 

"That's why I gave you a break the last few weeks. See how I look out for you." she joked, earning a dimpled smile in return. "Now, ask your question." 

Kelvin called her over with a quick tilt of his head and a disarming smile. "Come over here first." 

In her inner monologue, Asia passed the blame for her slow walk toward him to the fleeting gleam of his earrings under her bamboo floor lamp acting as a homing signal. In reality, it was simple attraction. Bare bones, uncomplicated attraction. He was boyishly handsome, the type of man you meet in college and remain "friends" with until one of you gets bored. Clean facial hair, glowing skin, straight white teeth, a sturdy hairline – all the makings of a classically fine man. What he lacked in height, he made up in personality and a beguiling genuineness. 

That's what carried her the few steps from the kitchen to Kelvin's side, her eyes low until he tugged her down into his lap. He chuckled into her ear as his soft hands rubbed a soothing path up and down her exposed thigh while he cradled her. "You ever hear your neighbors in here?"

"That was your question, Kelvin? If I can hear my neighbors? Not usually, no." 

He quietly scanned the corners of the room, nodding to himself in silent confirmation, then looked back at Asia with a lazy smile. His lips pecked at her neck before he spoke against her delicate skin. "And I wanted you to tell me about Friday. I saw you got the Hustle this week. That's big, girl. Congratulations." 

His deep mumbles vibrated across Asia's body, awakening nerve endings in places she didn't know could feel so electrified. Her legs tensed as she fought for a response. "Thank you. I…I wasn't expecting it." 

"I don't know why. You been bustin' your ass. Stayin’ late…” His voice trailed as his fingers danced across her stomach to the waistband of her shorts, hovering. Waiting. Teasing. "Comin' early. Skipping lunches. The least they could do is recognize you."

All of Asia's words came out in a needy rush of air. "Yeah, I guess so." 

"I know so." Long, deft fingers slid into Asia's shorts and over her thin underwear, looking for tension to relieve. "Tell me to stop whenever you want." Kelvin kept his lips attached her neck just as his hold on her waist tightened and her eyelids started to flutter closed. He spoke low and smooth, like warm honey. "What'd you do today?" 

A sigh and a whimper tumbled from her lips, fragmented and surprised. "I…I went to the farmer's market. The one uptown by the Whole F-foods." 

"What'd you get? More of that fruit juice you let me taste?" 

"Mhm." 

Asia had something else to say, something possibly important, had it popped up at a different time. However, the words faded into a haze of disjointed thoughts once Kelvin started making slow revolutions against her clothed center. The spot grew wetter with each pass. He listened to her try to breathe for a few seconds with the ghost of a smile on his lips while he focused on easing her into more stimulation. 

He rubbed his nose against her cheek to gently direct her to say more. "And what else? Focus on that so I can focus on you." 

Heat came first. An uncontrollable, blazing internal heat radiated from Asia's shoulders to her clenched toes. The fire inside created steam in her mind that needed a minute to clear before she could mentally wipe it away and think about the moments in her day that meant more than having her body controlled by a man who, less than a week ago, had never even seen her ankles. 

"Lunch," she panted. "I had lunch at…at a, um, a vegan spot. It was terrible. I…oh my God…I wasted my money." 

"You're vegan?" 

"No. Just…thought I'd try something different today." 

"Oh yeah?" Kelvin pulled his hands away long enough to lick the tips of his fingers before returning them further south. Slick and searching for warmth, he carefully led them into her panties for skin-to-skin contact. "You're full of surprises today, huh?"

Asia's answer became a shuddering sigh that never quite let all the air out of her lungs before she went to inhale. 

They sat like that for what felt like forever. Asia breathing in an uneven pattern, eyes closed and twitching behind crinkled lids. Kelvin slowly, deliberately circling the center of her pleasure with his nose pressed to her neck, inhaling the shea and sandalwood body wash coating her skin. Both of them caught up in the rapture of an impromptu lesson one. 

Kelvin snuck his free hand beneath Asia's shirt, caressing his way to both nipples that ached for contact. He ran his thumb across his favorite one a few times over before cupping her entire breast to gently hold it in the palm of his hand. 

"I didn't know this was the first session," Asia whispered as her body grew rigid and wetness coated her thighs, the words almost lost to the low roar of her dishwasher across the room. 

"It doesn't have to be. Consider it a chemistry test," he answered. "Wanna stop?"

Asia rushed to answer, "No! Stay right there…please."

Hearing her beg for his touch, for the feeling he was producing, sent Kelvin into a tailspin of emotions that he fought to put back into the mental box he never planned to open. But he couldn't escape the burning desire to press kisses from her shoulder to the corner of her lips. "Look at you. I think you know what you want," he commented as he increased the pace to elicit the whimper she tried to keep tucked away. "Don't be shy. Speak up." 

She couldn't. Even with the words knocking against the container of her mind like cold rainwater on a tin roof, she couldn't fight the sighs and sultry mewls taking precedence over making requests. All she could squeak out as her stomach clenched to welcome the first shocks of impending orgasm was a measly whimper.

"That's okay," he murmured. "We can work on it. Breathe deep for me." 

Or don't breathe at all. Asia's lungs chose the second option, involuntarily holding in a breath to receive the single digit tentatively plunging inside her while tears leaked from the corner of her eyes. Kelvin kissed away the initial shock until she nervously returned the affection. 

It was all too good. The taste of mint on his tongue, the feeling of his hands dragging out every sigh and sound she could concoct, the way his moans mingled with hers, how his eyes seemed to try and convey something more than the carnal situation they'd found themselves in – all too good and far exceeding expectations.

Plush lips moved against each other like seasoned lovers, syncing up without much pomp and circumstance. Asia was right. She was a quick study. She'd learned the ebbs and flows of a solid kiss in no time as she relaxed into Kelvin's touch. Nervousness had quickly dissipated into familiar passion, loosening the bolts on what they both assumed would be an awkward first encounter.

Her hips swiveled against his lap in time with each push and pull of his middle finger. She could handle more. She deserved more. 

When his ring finger joined the show, Kelvin pulled away from their lip lock to let Asia's throaty moan ping off the walls and ceiling. "There she is," he cooed against her lips. "I knew you had it in you." 

Her private time had nearly gone unrivaled until he came along. She'd mastered how to get herself off efficiently with nothing more than a little mental stimulation and time on her hands. This was different. This was exhilarating. Having praise and pleasure in equal measure scratched an itch that she'd almost believed would never be satiated. Now, she had her first taste of a drug she wasn't sure she wanted to quit. 

Kelvin's reminder to breathe echoed through Asia's mind as her body welcomed release. Waves of warmth cascaded across her limbs to match the near sob in her throat. Sweat pooled beneath her t-shirt. He kept his lips pressed to hers, creating a heady feeling that juxtaposed the pressure quaking her insides and sending her essence all over his knuckles. Her breathing all but stopped until the slow tingle of feeling returning to her toes reminded her that not only was she still alive, but her coworker still had his hands in her pants and a silly, self-satisfied grin on his lips. 

"You sound so pretty when you're not yelling at me through a screen." Kelvin pulled his fingers out of her warmth and immediately stuck them into his mouth for the taste he'd been fiending for. Asia watched him with shock and intrigue on her face as he hummed in approval at his reward for all his hard work. "And you acted like you didn’t wanna kiss but you're not bad at it. I've had way worse." 

Asia's rolling eyes matched the deadpanned response she used to hide how flustered she was. "Oh, great. I was starting to worry," she scoffed. "Get out of my house, Kelvin. I'll see you next weekend. Same time?"

A pang of disappointment hit him as she stood to scurry toward her bathroom without sparing him a second look. "We don't have to be like that," he called after her. "It's up to you, but I got a Disney bundle and Uber One until the end of the month. And you gotta eat, right?"

"I guess so," Asia answered, leaning on the frame with her arms crossed while she quietly committed the dimples in Kelvin's cheeks to memory. "Can we get something I can put hot sauce on?" 

"You want your Wednesday usual?" 

She smirked and turned her back to leave. "Don't go browsing around my Netflix messing up my recommendations and shit. Wait 'til I come back!" 

Kelvin kept his smart remark to himself and sank deeper into the couch to scroll through dinner options until he found his target. An intentional lick of his lips when he knew he was completely alone brought Asia back into the room by taste and imagination, reinvigorating a stirring below the navel that he couldn't relieve until he was in the privacy of his own thoughts. 

Adjusting himself to find relief, Kelvin released a low chuckle and licked his lips again for the thrill. 

All business and no play was boring. Next Saturday couldn't come soon enough.

--------

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[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Hiii love your writingggg, could you plsss do very innocent!reader and pervy!ethan 🫶🏻

Hiii! I hope you like it, even though you requested this MONTHS ago.

I'm not innocent, so I'm not the best at writing it🙃 Hopefully this is okay:)

Creep - Pervy!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: You ask Ethan for help in econ, and once Mindy mentions the empty bedroom in the apartment she shares with Ethan and Chad, you agree to move in. But you realize that your sweet, dorky new roommate has been stealing your panties.

Contains: Pervy kinda creepy Ethan, innocent inexperienced reader, fingering. m!masturbation.

A/N: Okay...this needs a part 2 but I'm already at 5k words lmao. A lot of fics I've read along these lines had had Ethan more subby, but not in this one. 👀

*For the poll I posted earlier today, this one had the most votes at the time of me posting this fic. I'm going to write them all in the order that they're wanted:)*

It seemed like your life was starting to fall apart. You couldn’t stand your roommate, your boyfriend had broken up with you, and your grade for econ was starting to tank. When you brought up your grade to your professor after class, hoping to figure out some way to raise it, she suggested that you talk to Ethan Landry.

The next time you had class, you beelined towards him once he walked in. He noticed you, getting a little nervous the closer you got. He wasn’t the best at talking to girls, he even thought this could’ve been a figment of his imagination that the girl he struggled to take his eyes off was walking to him. He was chewing the inside of his cheek, his eyes not leaving you until you were finally face to face.

“Ethan, right?” you sweetly said, as he nodded. “I hear you’re the best for tutoring, and I desperately need your help if you have the time.”

“I’ll make the time,” he spat out, before he internally screamed at himself for sounding so desperate to help. “I mean, I can help you.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” you said, as you pulled out your phone. “What’s your number?”

“Oh, um…” he trailed off, racking his brain for those ten digits that he suddenly forgot. “I’m sorry, it’s been a long day.”

“It’s okay,” you smiled, “Are you okay with me just giving you my number and you can text me so we can set something up?”

“Yeah,” he said, as he pulled out his phone and went to create a new contact. He passed you his phone as you typed in your name and number, before you handed it back to him.

“Don’t forget to text me,” you said, a sweet smile playing on your lips as you turned to walk back to your seat.

“I won’t,” he said, tightly gripping his phone in his hand as you turned to smile at him once more.

He was struggling to focus as he sat through that class. His fingers kept rubbing over the phone screen that your thumbs had moved across, and he started to realize how pathetic he was for already being so addicted to you when you’d only spoken to him once.

Later that week, you were supposed to meet Ethan in the library to study. You both completely forgot about the renovations they were doing, the normally quiet space filled with the loud sounds of the various pieces of machinery on the opposite side of the room.

“Maybe we should try to do this some other time,” you yelled over the noise. “I can’t concentrate on anything you’re saying.”

“Oh, okay,” Ethan said, looking down so you wouldn’t see the sad look on his face. That’s when he started to get an idea. “My apartment is only two blocks away. It should be quieter. You want to come over to study?”

You liked to be cautious, and you normally wouldn’t go to someone’s apartment that you barely knew, but Ethan seemed innocent enough, and you desperately needed to pass the class so you wouldn’t have to take it again.

“Sure,” you said, wincing as the noise in the room got louder.

You walked beside Ethan as you went to his apartment, and even though it was just for studying, he felt a glint of pride as he walked with you. He hoped that anyone who saw you together would think you were his.

“Hopefully my roommates won’t be too loud,” Ethan sighed, as he stuck his key in the front door.

“Nothing is worse than what’s going on in the library right now,” you said, as he shrugged.

“You say that now…”

You barely made it inside when you heard arguing. Ethan sighed in defeat before he turned to you, “I moved in with my friends, and they’re constantly arguing.”

“Oh,” you giggled, as you followed him into the living room of the apartment. “Oh, hey Mindy,” you said, as she turned to you and smiled.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” she asked, as she walked over to you. Chad just stood there, still worked up from the spat they were having when you walked in.

“Ethan’s trying to help me not fail econ,” you said, as she nodded.

“I remember you mentioning you were having trouble with it.”

Ethan was confused as he stood there, because Mindy had never mentioned you, but she seemed to know you quite well. The two of you talked for a few minutes, and once Ethan heard another guy’s name get mentioned, he immediately got jealous.

“I’m proud of you for not giving him another chance,” Mindy said, as you let out a small laugh.

“I’m not going to say I didn’t think about it, but I don’t need him making my life any harder than it needs to be right now,” you sighed, “On top of the bullshit with him, my roommate is just so awful. Like, she woke me up blasting music before the sun even came up today. I’m trying to find somewhere else to live, but I haven’t had any luck yet.”

“Well, we’re looking for a fourth roommate…” Mindy trailed off, as Ethan’s eyes grew wide. “It’d be nice to have another girl here.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you joked, as Mindy smiled.

“Seriously, think about it,” she said, before she started to yell. “Chad!”

You noticed that the other boy was no longer in the room, but you saw him again as he turned the corner and groaned. “What?”

“Okay, don’t be rude,” she snapped, “I’m trying to convince her to move into the fourth bedroom.”

“Oh,” Chad said, his annoyed face turning up in a smile. “Hey, I’m Chad.”

“Hey,” you said, before he started to go over rent and other things you’d need to know. “Why would I want to move in when you two argue like this?” you joked, as Chad tried to play it off.

“We shared a womb, we lived in the same house until we moved into our dorms, and I finally got a break from her,” he said, as she scoffed, “But now we have to live together again and we’re trying to figure out how to do that.”

“I’ve never lived with boys before…and I’m sure my parents would kill me if they ever found out, but I’ll definitely think about it,” you said, before you turned to Ethan. “I’m sorry, you want to study now?”

“Yeah, let’s go to my room,” he said, as he led you there.

You both got settled on his bed. He sat across from you, his back against the headboard as you adjusted to get more comfortable, laying on your stomach. He bit his lip once he noticed the perfect view he had down your shirt, the neckline barely covering anything as your chest was pressed against his bed.

“So, where should we start?” you asked, your soft voice barely getting his attention as he kept staring at your chest. He wanted to squeeze your boobs, suck on them, fuck them, even. “Ethan?” you questioned as you looked away from your notebook, and opened your laptop, completely blocking the sight he was fantasizing over.

“Oh, uh…” he said, as he opened his laptop. “Maybe let’s work on the quiz that’s due this weekend. It’ll show me what you do and don’t need help with.”

You spent over an hour studying with Ethan, and you felt like you were having a little bit of a better understanding. You were starting to get hungry, so you closed your laptop. Ethan glanced over his screen the second he noticed, getting another peak down your shirt again. This time, he saw a part of one of your nipples peaking out of your bra, the sight making his pants grow tighter. He fought off the sound that was threatening to come out before you sat up, once again taking his perfect view away from him.

“I’m starving,” you said, as you started to put your stuff away. “But thank you so much for your help, and I hope you’ll want to keep helping me. You’re my only hope.”

He softly chuckled at your words, “If you move in, we can study whenever you want.”

“You’d be cool with it?” you asked, smiling at him. “You didn’t really say anything out there and I didn’t want to actually start considering it until you said something.”

“Yeah, I think it’s cool,” he said, “If you do want to, and you need help moving or anything, let me know.”

“Thanks, Ethan,” you said, smiling again before you made your way out of his room.

He wanted to walk you to the door, but he knew the second he stood up, his hard cock would be so obvious. He ran his hand over the spot you were laying on the bed, your warmth still soaked up by his comforter. The view down your shirt was burned in his brain as he got up and walked over to the door, shutting and locking it before he dropped his pants to give his aching cock the attention it desperately needed.

The next time you had econ, you walked in and sat down beside Ethan. He didn’t notice at first, but he soon smelled the familiar scent that he couldn’t get out of his head after you’d left his apartment a few days before. He wasn’t sure if it was your hair or the perfume you were wearing, but it smelled delicious.

“Hey,” he smiled, his pupils growing large as he saw you. “Are you okay?”

He took in the stress on your face, and how tired you looked.

“Yeah, are you sure you’re cool with me moving in?” you asked, “Because I can’t deal with my roommate anymore.”

“Yeah, of course,” he said, “What happened?”

“She invites her boyfriend to stay over whenever she doesn’t have class the next morning,” you sighed, “I don’t want to explain all the sounds I had to listen to while I tried to sleep last night.”

“Oh,” he said softly, “Well, your room would be beside mine, and I wouldn’t keep you up all night.”

“I bet that’s why I’m failing this class right now. I never sleep,” you said, as you looked over to him. “Wait, you don’t have a girlfriend that stays over?”

“No,” he said, his cheeks turning pink at your question.

“Sex is overrated,” you shrugged, “But I really thought you would’ve had a girlfriend.”

“Really?” he asked, as your professor walked in.

“Yeah, you’re a cutie,” you smiled, before you directed your attention to the lecture.

Ethan was thankful that you were so focused and didn’t see the cheesy smile on his face. The girl he’d been thinking about as he jerked his cock for the last few days called him cute, and his heart was swelling.

After a couple weeks, Ethan, Chad, and Mindy showed up to the apartment you currently lived in while your roommate was at her boyfriend’s to help you move.

“First, I want you guys to know that none of this mess is mine,” you said, as soon as you answered the front door for them.

“Whoa,” Chad said as he glanced around. “There’s no way you live with a girl.”

“Yeah, you’ll never guess what I found on the kitchen floor this morning,” you said, as Mindy started to think.

“With the mess, I’m going to guess…dead mouse?”

“Not even close,” you said, as you shook your head and shuddered as you thought about it. “It was a condom.”

“Like…in the wrapper or…?” Chad asked, as you, once again, shook your head.

“Used.”

“Ewwww,” Mindy said, cringing at the thought.  “Okay, is anything in the kitchen yours?”

“I already boxed that stuff up. Except the dishes that she’s refused to wash,” you said, as you led them to the living room. “The TV is mine, and that lamp,” you said, as you pointed, “But other than that, I really just have to worry about my room.”

“I think it’d be best to have all the heavy stuff in the living room so Ethan and I can worry about that,” Chad said, as you nodded and led them down the hall.

You had already packed up most of your room, which made it so easy for your new roommates to help you. Once Chad was carrying your mattress out and Mindy had ran out to get coffee, Ethan started to glance around your room. He noticed the hamper full of clothes in the corner, and he found himself inching closer towards it as he listened to you and Chad talk in the living room. Before he could stop himself, he grabbed a shirt off the top of the pile, inhaling its scent. He let out a deep breath before he went to put the shirt back in the hamper, before he noticed some black lace sticking out under a pair of your jeans. He snatched it out of the basket and put it in his pocket before he put the shirt back in it once he heard footsteps coming back down the hall.

“Did you need help with this?” Ethan asked, pointing to the basket, trying to make it not seem like he was being weird.

“Shit, I forgot to do laundry,” you groaned, as the realization hit him that the panties he’d grabbed had been worn. “I’ll carry that out.”

“Okay,” Ethan said, before Chad motioned for him to help with the dresser.

Later that day after you got your stuff moved into your new room, you flopped on your freshly made bed as Mindy popped in.

“So, I’m going to try to convince the guys to share a bathroom so you don’t have to share with Ethan,” she said, as you shrugged.

“It’s not a big deal,” you said, “I just hope he doesn’t mind all the girly stuff in the shower and the makeup and stuff.”

Ethan didn’t mind at all. In fact, he’d already been in the bathroom, smelling your body wash, your shampoo and conditioner. The skincare products you used. He realized that all those things together were the cause of the scent that made his head spin.

Later that night after you had takeout with everyone, Ethan excused himself to go to bed. He couldn’t stop thinking about your panties that were still in his pocket. Once he pulled them out, he ran his fingers over the lace before taking in your scent. He softly groaned before he dropped his pants, the thoughts of his face buried in your pussy making him harder by the second. He had them tightly clutched in his fist as he started to stroke himself with his free hand, small whimpers flying out of his mouth as he tried to imagine how soft your hand would feel wrapped around him. His bottom lip was in between his teeth once he started to get louder, the tip of his cock red as be brought himself closer to the edge. Just as he was about to cum, he deeply inhaled the scent of your panties one more time before he rubbed them against the tip of his cock, his thick, white ropes covering the lace.

You thought living with boys was going to be difficult, but your first month wasn’t bad. You were surprised at how clean they liked everything to be, and Ethan always put the toilet seat down. You started to get close to your dorky roommate, especially once you spent so much time studying together. You already thought he was cute, but once you actually got to know more about him, you realized that he was so sweet, so nice. He might’ve been a little shy, too, but he got to the point where he was doing cute little things to make you laugh.

One day, you went to do your laundry in the apartment. You walked over and were about to throw stuff in when you noticed clothes were already inside, and Ethan quickly rounded the corner with the rest of the stuff he needed to toss in.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, “You want me to take my stuff out? I can wash it later.”

“No, it’s fine, I’ll wait,” you said with a smile, before you noticed something familiar in the washer. “Oh,” you said, your cheeks turning pink as you reached out and grabbed your panties out of the washer. “Must’ve dropped these in.”

Ethan’s eyes grew wide as he noticed them in your hand, the realization hitting you that they were sticky.

“Eww, what is all over these?” you said, a disgusted look on your face as you tried to figure it out. You looked over to Ethan, his face bright red and his eyes huge, when you pieced it together. “Ethan…”

He just stared at you, the silence deafening as he tried to think of something, anything to say to you. He’d gotten away with stealing your panties for a month, but it was a way for him to feel close to you, and satisfy some of the sexual frustration he had whenever he thought about you.

“What’s on my panties?” you questioned, as he tensed up. “Actually, I don’t think I want to know.”

You tossed them back in the washer and walked past him and headed straight to the bathroom to wash your hands. When you went to your room and shut the door, Ethan huffed and tossed in the rest of stuff that was in his hands before he started the washer.

As the day went by, you couldn’t stop thinking about Ethan, and how you’d noticed that pairs of your panties had been going missing ever since you moved in. But then you’d randomly see them again, in the top drawer of your dresser after a few days. You didn’t think Ethan was like that, and it made you feel a little uneasy to live with him.

Later that night, you had to say something to him. You walked out of your room and glanced around the apartment for him, before you walked to his closed door and started to knock. He eased it open after a few seconds, his eyes connecting with yours through the small crack.

“Can we talk?” you asked, as he took a deep breath and hesitantly opened the door for you.

You walked in and took a seat on the side of the bed, your gaze on his floor as you tried to think of the right way to talk to him.

“You want me to leave the door open,” he asked, barely above a whisper as you shook your head no.

“If Mindy or Chad come home, I don’t want them to hear the conversation.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, before he took a seat beside you. “I’m sorry.”

“Why were you stealing my panties?” you asked, as he took a deep breath.

“I can’t explain it without sounding like the total creep you probably already think I am.”

“So…that was what I thought it was on them,” you said, as you turned to look at him. He nodded, looking away to not meet your gaze.

“Again, I am so sorry,” he said, “I know you probably hate me, and I understand if you don’t want to be around me. I’ll stay in my room so you don’t have to see me.”

“I’m just a little confused,” you said softly, as he finally let his eyes connect with yours. “What’s so exciting about my panties?”

At that moment, one thing you said to Ethan started to play in his head. ‘Sex is overrated.’ He was questioning how much experience you actually had.

“Do you really not know or are you fucking with me?” he questioned.

“Like, does it feel good? How does it even turn you on?” you asked, curiously staring at him.

“They uh…yeah, it feels good when I uh…rub them on myself. And they smell like you.”

“They smell like fabric softener and laundry detergent,” you said, a small laugh slipping out as he shook his head.

“I haven’t been stealing clean ones…they smell like you.”

“Oh,” you said, as you looked away from him. “That turns you on?”

“You have no idea,” he said, and even though the conversation was uncomfortable, he was getting hard.

“Why are guys so weird?” you thought out loud, laughing a little as you shook your head. “So does that mean that you like me? Or you’re like…sexually attracted to me? I still don’t fully get it.”

“Both,” he said, “I think you’re so beautiful, and I’ve had so much fun with you this last month…but I also think about you in a different way, too. Ya know?”

“I’ve thought about you that way, too,” you admitted, “It’d kind of hard not to. I hear you through the walls all the time.”

“You’ve heard me?” he asked, a blush spreading to his cheeks. “I’m sorry, I know you hated when you heard your old roommate.”

“I like it when I hear you,” you said so softly that he barely heard it.

“Do you touch yourself when you hear me?”

Your breathing got heavier at his question, and Ethan noticed. You were getting so flustered under his gaze.

“I…I’ve tried to,” you said, as you took in the curious look on his face.

“Tried to?” he asked, “What do you mean?”

“Like…I know what feels good, but I can never get myself…there, if you know what I mean.”

“You’ve never made yourself cum?” he questioned, admiring how cute you looked as you got embarrassed.

“No one has.”

“No one?” he asked, his throat dry at the thought. “Are you a virgin?”

“No…but I’ve never enjoyed sex. Like, it feels good, but I think it’s so disappointing when you hear how amazing orgasms are and then I just never get one.”

Ethan expected the conversation that was happening to go so differently. He thought you hated him, but there you were, telling him that you’d tried to get yourself off when you’d heard him. The thought of him being the first one to make you cum had him salivating, but he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable if he offered.

“Have you ever…given someone an orgasm?” you asked, as he nodded. “I’m jealous of whoever she is.”

“Don’t be,” he said, scooting a little closer to you. “Fuck, I’d make you cum all the time if I could.”

“Really?” you smiled, “If you ever want to, I’m right next door,” you joked, as he smiled and shook his head.

“Hey, don’t offer that or I’ll be in your room every day.”

You were starting to squirm against his bed, your thighs rubbing together so subtly that he could barely tell. The sexual tension was so thick, your breathing getting heavier as you thought about how good Ethan would make you feel.

“I think I need to go back to my room,” you said, as you started to stand up. That’s when you glanced at Ethan’s lap, noticing the tent in his sweatpants.

“Do you really want to?” he asked, “Because if you want me to take care of you right now, I will.”

“Seriously?” you questioned, as he smiled and nodded.

“Come here,” he said, reaching out to grab your hands, pulling you to him.

Once Ethan leaned in to kiss you, he was almost taken aback by how quickly your lips were moving against his. He was desperate for you, but you were just as desperate for him. He matched your pace before he pushed you back on the bed, his hand running from your hip, up your ribs, until it landed on your breast. You gasped into the kiss once he squeezed it.

You had massive butterflies in your stomach once you felt his cock pressing against your thigh through his sweatpants, your head was spinning, but you were loving every second of it.

“Hey, I have an idea,” he said, once he pulled away to catch his breath. “I think we should go to your room.”

“Why?” you asked because you didn’t want to stop. You needed his lips back on yours.

“Because you have that full length mirror leaning against your wall,” he said, chuckling once you noticed the confused look on your face. “I want you to see what I’m doing to make you cum…in case I’m never here to help you.”

“Okay,” you said, as he stood up and grabbed your hands.

Once he opened his bedroom door, he listened to make sure he didn’t hear anyone else in the apartment before he walked out and to your room next door. He shut and locked your bedroom door once he made it inside, before he pulled you into another kiss. His hands held onto your hips until they started to rub against the flesh under the hem of your shirt. He kept inching it further and further up, until he pulled away to pull it over your head. His lips went back to yours as he reached around to unhook your bra, his hands squeezing at your breasts once they were free.

His mouth moved to your neck as his hands explored your body, before they snaked under the waistband of your leggings. He moved them down over your hips as you shimmied out of them, leaving you in nothing but your panties. He recognized them as the first pair he ever stole, the black lacy ones.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, as his hand moved to rub you over your panties. The material was soaked as you moaned at the feeling. “That feel good?”

“Yes,” you said, quickly nodding your head just in case he needed the extra confirmation. “So good.”

“I hate that I have to take these off you,” he said, as he inched the fabric down your thighs, leaving you completely nude in front of him. “I’m going to sit on the floor in front of the mirror, and I want you to sit between my legs.”

“Okay,” you said, as he took a seat on the floor, his legs spreading for you to sit. You did as he said, looking at him in the mirror as he spread your legs, placing your feet on either side of his legs on the floor.

You watched him lick two of his fingers before he placed them against your clit, rubbing slow circles. Your eyes stayed on the reflection of his hand, your mouth parting as you started to breathe faster. He added a little more pressure as you fully relaxed back into his chest, the softest moans slipping out as he went a little faster.

“Ethaaan,” you whined out, the noise quickly becoming his new favorite sound.

“Shh, I don’t know if anyone else is here,” he said softly, “Just keep your legs spread for me, baby.”

He rubbed a few more circles on your clit before his fingers moved lower, one of them slipping inside you. He pumped it in and out for a minute before he added another, as you angled your neck to look up at him. He leaned down to kiss you as his fingers moved, before he started to mumble against your lips.

“If you ever finger yourself, this…” he said, as he curved them just right, a low moan flying out of your mouth, “Is the spot that needs attention. Okay baby?”

“Okay,” you whimpered, as he moved his fingers faster.

The sounds you were making just kept getting louder, and Ethan was just hoping and praying that no one else was home. One of your hands clung to his thigh as your other hand wrapped around his wrist, as you started to feel…different. It felt so good, and the last thing you wanted was for him to stop. Once he went even faster, the squelching sound of your wet pussy and your whimpers filling the room, your legs were trying so hard to close as your toes curled against the carpet on the floor.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, your fluttering eyes watching his hand in the mirror as your body started to tingle.

“Cum for me baby,” he encouraged, as you finally let that feeling wash over your body. You were jolting, your eyes screwed shut as his fingers started to slow, his free hand roaming your chest as you let out all your sounds.

Once you fully relaxed in his arms, he placed a kiss to the top of your head as your hazy eyes connected with his in the mirror.

“Now you can’t say no one’s ever made you cum,” he said with a smile, as he slid his fingers out of you. “Did it feel good?”

“That was better than I thought it was going to be,” you said, “Thanks, Ethan.”

“You’re welcome.”

You sat there in silence for a minute as you felt his cock pressing against you, and you wanted so badly to take care of him, until you heard commotion in the apartment.

“Hey, guysss,” Chad yelled, as he walked down the hall.

You tensed up as you glanced at your door, before Ethan whispered, “It’s okay, I locked it.”

You relaxed again before Chad started to yell again, “Tara’s here!”

You forgot about hanging out with Mindy and Tara for the night, and you didn’t want to pull away from Ethan, but you hesitantly did, your legs wobbling as you tried to stand. Ethan got up to help you, and once you got your bearings, he started to grab your clothes off the floor for you.

“Thanks,” you said, before you noticed him pick up your panties.

“No, thank you,” he joked, a smirk playing on his lips as he backed towards your door. “I’ll see you when you get back in the morning.”

“I better still have panties in that top drawer when I get back.”

[jinxificada]

friendly sleepover

bf!jinx x bf!reader

summary: in the nature of your friendship, neck kisses are just the smallest of love expression.

notes: nsfw, modern au. wc 2k. no proofread bc if i do i wouldn’t even publish it 😆😆🫶🏼 enjoy

🃜🃚🃖🃁🂭🂺

jinx opened the door as soon as she heard your knocking. she welcomed you with messy hair and the smudged makeup she's been wearing all day.

"finally!" she pulled your hand, quickly guiding you to her room. "i was starting to think you were going to stand me up!" she dramatized, helping you strip off your backpack. it was late at night, almost 10pm, when you were supposed to arrive at about 8:30.

"sorry! i messaged you but i didn't have any service." you excused yourself as you made yourself comfortable in the familiar place. the dark gray walls filled with graffiti and metal bands posters gave you a sense of comfort, a sharp contrast to the intimidation from the first time you had come over. "i missed the bus and had to wait for the next one. but i brought the snacks!"

"excuses, excuses." she muttered playfully, throwing herself on her half-made bed, lots of pillows and blankets already occupying 70% of the space. "ok, i believe you. but you better have brought those gummy candies i asked for, though!"

you only hummed, barging in your backpack to find two small bags. you throw at her the gummies, followed by a couple of other snacks. jinx snickered, mouth soon full of sweets as you stripped off your street clothes. her eyes lingered on your form until you hid it with an oversized shirt you usually bring to sleep in. you didn't mind putting on shorts like her, being a hot summer night.

you sighed as you crawled into the bed, laying next to her. "i wanna watch a movie." jinx rolled her eyes, yawning while handing you the remote of the mid sized tv she luckily had in her bedroom. "stop yawning! don't you dare to fall asleep." you threatened with a frown.

"how could i? i'm way too excited to do anything with you." she intended to tease you, but it came out more suggestive than she anticipated. she mentally facepalmed herself, quickly speaking again. "but toots! your movies are boring."

"shut up, i have the perfect movie." you smirked, scrolling for a bit until you finally found what you were looking for.

"robots? seriously?"

"you'll like it! my baby brother made me watch it the other day, it's fun."

jinx groaned but quickly ended her small whim, focusing on the candy more than the movie. she honestly didn't really care, as long as she's with you.

both of you were around sixteen years old when you moved to her small town, accidentally stealing her private hang out spot under the old stairs at school. she quickly took a liking to you, interested in your sudden arrival and relaxed demeanor. besides your great sense of style and your pretty smile, or the softness of your hair, or the way you matched her physical love language and you silently reassured how much you like her presence with light touches. soft tugging at the edge of her shirt, tangling your arms while you walk side by side, resting your hands on her legs when she comfortably puts them across your lap, maybe even doing it yourself.

the movie barely started when you cuddled up next to her, opening your own snacks while you asked: “where’s your dad, by the way?”

“he’s out… he said he’ll be staying late at work tonight. dunno why, but at least we have the house for ourselves.” she said, looking at you for a moment before returning her gaze at the tv screen.

“yeah, this is better.” you contently rubbed your cheek on her shoulder.

“geez–” she huffed in feigned annoyance to hide the light blush, “you’re awfully touchy today…”

you react frowning, “i dunno what’re you talking about.” her call out doesn’t stop you, staying pressed by her side. “it’s just…” your voice wandering off caught her attention, tilting her head at you.

“what? what is it?”

you groaned quietly, reluctantly pulling away from her to grab your phone. now it was her face hovering over your shoulder, looking at your fingers opening instagram and your chat with ekko.

ugh, ekko.

jinx already had an idea of what got you in a bad mood, you two hated each other’s guts since the very first moment you befriended jinx. it wasn’t a mystery, jinx and ekko were former childhood friends. growing up, ekko developed a sweet crush on jinx.

too bad she didn’t reciprocate.

but even after rejecting him, he still thought he had a chance. his subtle insistence was the cause that made her blow him off completely. ekko simply couldn’t understand it, so he blamed you.

sadly you all shared the same group of friends, the hangouts filled with bickering and a slight tense air between the three of you. it was also common for ekko to reply to your instagram stories with unnecessary comments about you and your posts.

this time he replied to a picture of you and jinx earlier that day, when you spent your afternoon by the lake. it was a cute selfie, both of you with wet hair and pretty matching bikinis.

< you two look pretty close for only being best friends. > he said.

jinx stared at the chat with furrowed eyebrows, she was confused. is that it? that was enough to get on your nerves? of course you were close— what is wrong with that? aren’t best friends allowed to hang out all the time and post pictures together?

her mind wandered off briefly. she was conscious that maybe, just maybe, the line of your relationship was a bit blurred. she thought about her own comments under your pictures, a clear display of possession in every word, even only with emojis. she thought about the way you hug her from behind anytime you could.

she didn’t even have to go that far in her memory. that very same day, at the lake, what was supposed to be a friendly hangout seemed —and felt— more like a date.

she could still feel the warmth and weight of your body on her back when she playfully carried you around in the water. your hands untangling her long wet hair while she comfortably sat in between your legs. your quiet sighs of pleasure when she massaged your back as she applied sunscreen—

“jinx.” you snapped her out of her short trance. “did you hear me?”

“huh? sorry, what did you say?”

“i was complaining. like— what is his problem? i swear he will explode out of jealousy.” you grumpily muttered, laying your head back to rest on her shoulder. jinx buried her nose in the crook of your neck, it was only natural.

“i don’t know why you let him get under your skin, you don’t have to worry about him.” she tried to reassure you, punctuating her statement with a gentle kiss on your neck. “you’re the one in my arms, after all.”

you mindlessly hummed, relaxing on her arms. “i know, i know… he’s down bad for you. and not only him! my fingers aren’t enough to count all the people feening over you.” jinx snickered, listening to your jealous bragging as she placed butterfly kisses on the side of you neck. she felt you tilting your head to the other side, welcoming her affection. “every time we go out you have at least three boys asking for your number. your followers grow like two digits every day.”

“hm. i do have my user on a lot of walls, though.”

“not the point. i should just lock you up here by now.”

the feeling of your soft skin under her lips was making her dizzy. she didn’t understand how you could act so nonchalant when she was trying to mark you. maybe she was being too subtle.

“that’s so boring,” jinx groaned, sighing through her nose as she placed her chin on your shoulder to glance at you. oh— your cheeks were flushed. the slight tint of pink suddenly encouraged her. “how would you keep me entertained, hm?”

you took a long, deep breath. the possibilities were endless, hundreds of scenarios flowing through your mind in half a second. preparing your answer, you turned slightly to meet her eyes. is then when you noticed she stopped her ministrations.

an unamused small frown appears on your face, “i’ll bring you books.”

her face twisted into a pout as she pulled away from her neck. she raised an eyebrow at her response, “books? you’re gonna lock me up and expect me to stay occupied reading all day?"

“what else d’you want?” you raise an eyebrow, pressing into her chest as you laid back. now it was your turn to rub your cheek on her neck, easily reaching the soft edge of her jawline with your lips. ”your little trinkets and gadgets?”

jinx’s arms tightened their grip around your waist, pulling you closer against her. "i mean... those would be nice too..." she tried to maintain her casual tone, but the feeling of your lips against her skin was making it difficult to keep her composure. "but I'll need something else to entertain me..."

“so greedy…” you murmured, tapping the other side of her cheek to make her turn towards you.

her eyes meet yours for a brief moment before you mindlessly took her lips in a gentle, yet deep kiss.

a soft gasp escaped her lips when your mouth captured hers. for a few seconds, jinx was stunned by the sudden kiss, but she quickly gave in, melting against you. her arms enveloped your body completely, holding you close as she deepened the kiss.

she was greedy, alright. she wanted more and more, she couldn't get enough of your touch. the calm pace of the kiss warmed up her chest, you moved so naturally that it didn’t feel like your first kiss. yet the taste and feeling of your lips sent shivers down her spine, she could hear the imaginary fireworks and standing ovations.

when your fingers tangled in the hair on the back of her hair, a low satisfied hum escaped jinx’s lips.

the kiss was intoxicating, like a drug she couldn't get enough of. jinx's fingers traced the contour of your body, exploring every inch of your skin as she continued to kiss you with a growing intensity. it wasn’t long until things got messier, her tongue pushed past your lips as her hands started to confidently wander around, slipping under your shirt.

her cold hands on your stomach made you flinch, breaking the kiss with a quiet gasp followed by a giggle. “you’re freezing.”

“hm, you don’t like it?” she smirked, purposefully caressing up and down, almost reaching the underside of your naked breasts.

it should be strange, unnatural. but neither of you felt that way, it was more like… an improvement. the only proof of the fact that it was the first time you acted on your feelings was the raw hunger, the primal need to possess the other.

the steamy make out was only interrupted to change positions. now jinx straddles your lap with her milky thighs pressed tightly against either side of your hips. it was impossible to stop herself from grinding into you, and so was impossible to shut the small whimpers coming from her throat.

they grew louder and desperate when your lips attacked her neck, nibbling the skin. “feels good, jinx?” you whispered softly, combing the harsh graze of your teeth with open-mouthed kisses.

she continued to grind with increased fervor, clearly chasing the delicious friction of your bottom against her pussy. if she moved right, it was her clit receiving the pressure, making her squirm and moan messily.

“yeah— yes, feels s’good.”

your hand sneaked down into her loose shorts, a strained gasp escaped her mouth as her hips twitched against your touch. next thing she knows, her insides squeezed your fingers as she eagerly jumped on you. the heat that was building on her lower abdomen grew exponentially, jinx was sure that her release was close.

her body moved against your fingers more desperately, more frantically. she was on the edge, the need for a stronger connection was overwhelming her. "i-i’m so close," she managed to gasp out, her body tense, coiled like a spring ready to snap.

her body trembled, her muscles clenched, her breath catching in her throat as her release washed over her, a wave of pleasure and heat overwhelming her senses. she cried, her hips bucking against your hand involuntarily as she rode the wave of pleasure, your name a soft, shaky moan on her lips.

even after she relaxed her body, your fingers gathered up her cum and teasingly rubbed her clit with her wetness, enjoying the way her body shivered and squirmed to the overstimulation.

“ngh— too sensitive.” she protested in a soft whine. you chuckled quietly, deciding to be merciful.

“that was so hot…” you sighed dreamily, hugging her boneless body when her head fell to your neck. “this enough to keep you entertained?”

“fuck you,” she huffed, though you could feel the big smile that formed on her lips. “you could always just mark me up.”

[bookishdreamer28]

More dad Azriel? More dad Azriel

Azriel was frantically walking up and down the hall of the winter house. You were giving birth. His beautiful and loving mate, was giving birth to your baby girl. A girl.

"I can't stand it. I need to go back inside right now!" Azriel outreached for the handle of the door but Rhys stopped him.

"You were literally freaking out in there earlier. You almost fainted and Y/N is the one who's giving birth!"

"Of couse I'm freaking out! How am I supposed to stay calm while hearing her screams and trying to wait patiently here as my kid is coming into the world?!" Azriel almost shouted. Cass chuckled behind him and brought a hand on his shoulder.

"Relax brother. Everything's going to be ok. Y/N is so strong and your baby is going to be great."

"Cass is right! Don't overthink right now. Just sit down a little, try to relax and everything will go on smoothly. Madja will make sure that both Y/N and your baby will be fine." Feyre's comforting hand came to rest on Azriel's shoulder.

Azriel felt like calming a little. They're right. You're strong. And courageous. And amazing. He knew you could do it.

Your scream pierced through the walls of the rooms and Azriel shoot up from his seat.

"That's it I'm going in!" His brothers tried to stop him.

"No Azriel wait-" Rhys sentence cut off as another scream could be heard now. More like a wailing. Azriel froze on the spot.

"Oh! She's here!" Elain exclaimed excitedly and everyone had a huge smile on their faces.

"Az? Are you ok? You're just froze-" Nesta watched in shock as Azriel bursted through the door of your room, and closed right in everyone faces. Before anyone could say anything, he opened the door again just to say:

"If anyone dare to come in here right now, you'll deal with heavy consequences. It's me, my mate and our baby now got it? Thank you" He closed it again and he slowly turned around to face you. He sucked in a breath as he took in your tired form. The way you looked so beautiful, made him weak to the knees every time. He went to your side immediately and slowly crunched down to take a better look on you.

"Sweetheart? It's me. I'm here now and I will never leave your side." He planted soft kisses on your hand. You smiled warmly at him and rested your forehead on his.

"She's here" you whispered.

"She's here" Azriel looked astonished at the image in front of him.

Madja walked in with you baby girl in her arms. Your baby. Your beautiful girl.

Azriel inhaled a shaking breath, trying to hold his cry.

"There you go. She's great and healthy. Congratulations you two!" Madja said and she placed your baby girl in your arms. Madja then decided to leave and when she opened the door she came across 7 heads trying to take a look.

"Come on everyone leave the couple alone for now" She said as walked outside. Once the door closed, Azriel and you just enjoyed the moment of looking at your girl.

"Az..."

"She's...oh my- She's amazing, sweetheart. You did it" he looked at you with glassy eyes. "Baby, you did it. You did amazing I'm- I'm so proud of you" he kissed softly and deeply, not being able to contain himself any longer.

A small whine heard, and you and Azriel looked down immediately just to fins your sweet girl staring back at you.

"Hi honey!" You smiled at her and booped her little nose with pointed finger. Azriel looked at the interaction in wonder. How? How could he ever be this lucky to have you and now your beautiful baby in his life?

Azriel stared lovingly at his daughter, not believing she was here with you.

"Hello my beautiful girl." His voice was full of emotion.

"Wanna hold her?" You asked Azriel. He looked a bit hesitant and you knew exactly why.

"Please my love, don't think like that." You took one of his hands and kissed it. That brought even more tears to the shadow singer's eyes.

With slightly shaking hands, he took the small form in his arms, and everything suddenly clicked. Like the missing piece of the puzzle was finally found. Having you and his daughter with him, was the most beautiful and extraordinary gift he could ever receive in his life.

Your daughter stared at Azriel with bright eyes.

"My daughter." Azriel murmured and leaned to kiss her forehead softly and carefully. He then turned to you and gave you one more kiss on your lips.

"Thank you for this gift my love. Thank you for making my life brighter by stepping in. Along with our sweet girl now" He murmured against your lips as he sealed your lips once more, wanting to do it again and again and again.

It was him, you and his daughter. Everything felt right. Everything were perfect.

[antinousletmehit]

˚₊‧꒰ა Chapter 16 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

୨୧┇Pairing: Telemachus x fem!reader

୨୧┇notes: WRITTEN PRE-ITHACA SAGA. Don’t come for me guys. ALSO YOU GUYS MIGHT NEED TO READ BACKSTORY CONTENT ON ANTINOUS AND READER TO FULLY UNDERSTAND THIS CHAPTER.

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

The sun streamed into the hall as Antinous lounged in a chair, his boots propped up on a low table. For once, he was in a rare, cheerful mood. A servant brought over a fresh goblet of wine, which he accepted with a wide grin. Eurymachus sat across from him, lazily tossing a few dice onto the table.

“You know,” Antinous began, swirling his wine, “it’s a good day. The food’s decent, the weather’s perfect, and for once, no one’s done anything to piss me off.” He leaned back, exhaling contentedly. “I might even go easy on the servants today.” Eurymachus raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “How merciful of you,” he said dryly, rolling his dice again. “You’re practically a saint.”

Antinous snorted. “Don’t push it. What’s with the sarcasm? Is something up your ass today? Though, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Not at all,” Eurymachus replied annoyed, though a sly grin creeping onto his face. “Actually, I’m just thinking about how you might not stay in such a good mood for long.” Antinous frowned, his good humor faltering just slightly. “What the hell does that mean?” Eurymachus leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Well, it’s just that…you know how I hinted the other day about your sister?”

Antinous stiffened, his cheerfulness evaporating. “Yeah? And I beat you at arm wrestling, so you’re supposed to stop talking in riddles like you’re about to reveal you’re Odysseus in disguise.”

Eurymachus smirked. “Right, right. But I couldn’t let it go, and, well…” He paused dramatically, clearly enjoying himself.

Antinous sat up straighter, his eyes narrowing. “Well, what? Spit it out, Eurymachus.”

Eurymachus shrugged nonchalantly, feigning disinterest. “Let’s just say I’ve seen her and Telemachus getting real close lately. Closer than I thought they’d be.” Antinous stared at him, his expression unreadable. “What do you mean, close?”

“Oh, you know,” Eurymachus said casually, inspecting his nails. “Sneaking off together, whispering in corners, kissing—”

“WHAT?!” Antinous bellowed, jumping to his feet so quickly his chair toppled over.

Eurymachus leaned back, unfazed, his smirk widening. “Relax, I’m just saying what I saw. A little kiss between your sweet sister and Telemachus—nothing to lose your head over.” Antinous’s face turned crimson, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “You’re lying,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Y/N wouldn’t—she hates him!”

Eurymachus shrugged again, still maddeningly calm. “Doesn’t look like hate to me.” He leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “I mean, if I were you, I’d be a little worried about where else that might lead.” Antinous slammed his fist on the table, the sound reverberating through the hall. “I’m going to kill him.” Eurymachus chuckled, clearly amused. “Oh, come on. Don’t be so dramatic. Maybe it’s love?”

Antinous grabbed the front of Eurymachus’s tunic, pulling him forward so their faces were inches apart. “If you’re lying to me, I swear—”

“I’m not lying,” Eurymachus interrupted, his tone still infuriatingly casual. “But hey, don’t take my word for it. Why don’t you ask Y/N yourself?” Antinous shoved him back, his chest heaving as he glared at Eurymachus. Without another word, he stormed out of the hall, his mind racing and his temper barely contained. Eurymachus leaned back in his chair, watching him go with a satisfied smirk.

“This is going to be fun,” he giggled to himself, reaching for his goblet.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Antinous stormed down the halls of the palace, his footsteps echoing like thunder. His jaw was tight, his fists clenched, and his chest heaved with anger. He didn’t bother knocking when he reached his sister’s room, instead slamming the door open so hard it ricocheted off the wall.

Y/N, sitting on her bed with tear streaked cheeks, jumped at the sudden intrusion. She hastily wiped her face, trying to hide her vulnerability, but her red, puffy eyes betrayed her.

“What the hell, Antinous?” she snapped, her voice hoarse but sharp.

Antinous didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “Don’t ‘what the hell’ me!” he shouted, stepping into the room and slamming the door behind him. “What is this I hear about you and Telemachus? Eurymachus told me everything.”

Her stomach dropped. Her face turned pale, and then red with frustration. “What!? He promised! That nosy bastard needs to learn how to keep his mouth shut,” she muttered, standing up. Antinous pointed an accusing finger at her. “Don’t you dare try to deflect! Is it true? You’ve been sneaking around with him?”

Her lip trembled, but she masked it with anger. “So what if I have?” she shot back, her voice rising. “What’s it to you, Antinous?”

“What’s it to me?!” Antinous roared, his face contorting in disbelief. “I’m your brother, Y/N! You’re supposed to have some dignity—some respect for yourself!”

“Respect?” Pandora scoffed bitterly, crossing her arms. “You think sneering at servants, bullying Telemachus, and drinking yourself stupid every night counts as respectable behavior?”

“This isn’t about me!” Antinous snapped, his face flushing. “It’s about you—and how you’ve humiliated yourself and me by running after that spineless boy!”

She clenched her fists, her body shaking with anger. “Don’t you dare call him spineless! He’s more of a man than half the fools in this palace—including you!” Antinous flinched as if slapped. His lips curled into a snarl. “Oh, so now you’re in love with him, is that it? What, are you going to run off with him to Pylos? Sparta?, leave your blood behind for some fantasy romance?”

Bee throat tightened, and her voice cracked. “He’s already gone.” Antinous blinked, his fury momentarily dampened by the raw pain in her voice. “Gone?”

“He sailed this morning,” she said, her tone wobbling as fresh tears filled her eyes. “And I had to watch him go, knowing he might never come back.” Antinous stood in stunned silence for a moment before the anger returned. “Good riddance,” he muttered. “At least one good thing happened today.”

Her head snapped up, and she marched forward, jabbing her finger into his chest. “Don’t you dare say that!” she hissed. “You don’t know anything about him, about what he’s been through, what he’s trying to do! You just see him as a threat to your stupid courting games.” Antinous slapped her hand away, his expression darkening. “He is a threat. A threat to you, to us, to the order of things. And you’re too blinded by your pathetic feelings to see it!”

She shoved him, hard enough to make him stumble back a step. “You don’t get to decide what I feel, Antinous! You don’t own me!” Antinous steadied himself, his chest heaving with rage. “You’re acting like a child,” he spat.

“And you’re acting like a tyrant!” She screamed back, her voice breaking. The room fell into a tense, suffocating silence. Both of them stood there, glaring at each other, their breathing heavy.

Finally, Antinous shook his head, his expression a mix of anger and disappointment. “You’re going to regret this, Y/N. I promise you. You think this is all a game, don’t you?” he growled, his voice low but trembling with emotion. She flinched, wiping her tears, but the sight of her crying didn’t deter him. If anything, it seemed to fan the flames.

“Do you even remember?” he said, his voice rising. “Do you even remember who was there for you when we had nothing?” She looked at him, her lips trembling, but she didn’t respond.

“I was the one who fed you when we were hungry!” Antinous shouted, pointing to his chest. “I was the one who went without so you could have enough! I put you first every single time, Y/N!” Her tears fell faster, and she shook her head, trying to block him out, but he wouldn’t stop.

“When we ran away from that skank we called our mother, when we had nothing but scraps and the clothes on our backs, who do you think kept us alive? Who do you think protected you, fought for you, made sure you had a future?”

“Antinous, stop,” she whispered, her voice choked.

“No!” he snapped, his eyes blazing. “You need to hear this. You need to understand that I am your blood. Not Telemachus. Not some stupid boy who doesn’t know the first thing about you or what we’ve been through. Me.” She pressed her hands to her ears, shaking her head, but Antinous grabbed her wrists, forcing her to look at him.

“I’m the one who took care of you,” he said, his voice raw now, breaking under the weight of his emotions. “I’m the one who sacrificed for you. And this—this is how you repay me? Running around with Telemachus like none of that ever happened? Like I don’t even matter?”

She yanked her wrists free, her face twisted in pain. “You do matter, Antinous! But you can’t control me! I’m not a child anymore!”

“You’ll always be my little sister,” he shot back. “And as long as I’m alive, I’ll protect you—even from yourself, even if it means I have to fight you on this!”

“I don’t need your protection!” She screamed, her voice breaking as she shoved him again. “I don’t need you to fight my battles anymore, Antinous! I can take care of myself!” Antinous staggered back, his expression torn between anger and hurt. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, his chest heaving as he stared at her.

Then, in a voice softer but no less intense, he said, “You think you can take care of yourself? Fine. Go ahead. But don’t come crying to me when that boy breaks your heart—or worse, gets you killed. Because he will, Y/N. He’s going to leave you behind, just like his father left him.” She gasped as if he’d slapped her, and her tears came harder.

Antinous turned away, his face hard and unreadable. “I was always there for you,” he said quietly, his back to her now. “But if you don’t want me anymore, fine. I won’t waste my time.” Her sobs were cut short by a sudden surge of anger. She pushed herself up from the bed, her body trembling as she shouted after him, her voice raw and broken.

“And what about you?” she wailed, her words spilling out like a dam bursting. “You want to stand here and act like the perfect brother, like you’ve done everything for me—but you didn’t!” Antinous stopped in his tracks, his back still turned to her. His shoulders tensed, but he didn’t move.

“You fed me, you protected me, fine!” Pandora cried. “But you want to talk about sacrifices? What about when you started leaving me? What about all those nights you disappeared into the streets, chasing after random whores and leaving me alone? What about when you stopped caring, Antinous?”

His head tilted slightly, but he didn’t turn around.

“You want to talk about blood and loyalty?” Her voice cracked as fresh tears streamed down her face. “You weren’t there anymore! You were too busy being a selfish, shitty brother to notice that I needed you!” That did it. In a flash, Antinous spun around, his face a storm of fury and pain. He crossed the room in two long strides, grabbed Y/N by the collar of her tunic, and yanked her close.

“Shut the fuck up,” he snarled, his voice low and dangerous.

Y/N froze, her breath hitching as she looked into his wild, furious eyes. For a moment, she saw the boy he used to be—the one who shielded her from danger, who promised her they’d survive no matter what. But that boy was gone, replaced by a man consumed by pride and disdainfulness.

“You think I neglected you?” Antinous hissed, his grip tightening just enough to make her flinch. “You think I didn’t notice? I noticed everything.”

She tried to pull back, but he held her in place. “Antinous—”

“You don’t get to talk to me like that,” he growled, his voice trembling. “Not after everything I’ve done for you. Not after everything I’ve given up for you.” She swallowed hard, her hands gripping his wrists as she tried to steady herself. “Let go of me.”

For a moment, it looked like he might not. His grip stayed firm, his chest heaving as he stared her down. But then, with a sharp exhale, he released her, pushing her back slightly as if disgusted—with her or himself, she couldn’t tell. She stumbled, clutching her collar as she glared at him, tears still streaming down her face. “You don’t get to treat me like this,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “Not anymore.”

Antinous ran a hand through his hair, his expression a mix of frustration and regret. “And you don’t get to throw away everything we’ve worked for over some boy,” he said coldly. “Grow up, Y/N.”

Antinous paced furiously outside her room after slamming the door behind him, but something about her broken sobs pierced through his anger. He clenched his fists, muttering curses under his breath before turning back and barging into the room again.

Y/N, still slumped against the bedpost, flinched at the sound of the door crashing open. Her tear streaked face lifted, her eyes red and puffy, as Antinous stood in the doorway, his face a mask of fury. “You want to play this game?” he snapped, stepping closer. “Fine. You think you’re so strong now, don’t you? So independent, so grown up.” His voice dripped with venom. She stiffened, wiping her face with trembling hands. “Antinous—”

“No, let me finish,” he interrupted, his tone sharp. “If you’re so desperate to abandon me, your own brother, the one person who’s always been there for you, then fine. Let’s see how well you do without me.”

Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to retort, but he cut her off again, pointing a finger at her. “You want freedom, Y/N? You’ve got it. But don’t come crying to me when the suitors start mocking you—when they say things to your face that you can’t handle.”

Her heart sank, but she forced herself to stand.

Antinous snapped, his voice rising. “You think they don’t already talk about you behind your back? About how you’re just another piece of meat for them to eye and dream? Do you think they respect you because you can throw a few punches?”

“Shut up,” she hissed, her hands balling into fists.

He laughed bitterly, his voice cruel. “What’s the matter? Can’t take the truth? Well, here’s another one for you: the next time they mock you, even if it’s right in front of me, I won’t step in. You’re so strong, right? Handle it yourself.” Her breath hitched, and for a moment, she looked like she might break all over again. But she held her ground, her chin trembling as she glared at him.

Antinous mocked, leaning closer, his face twisted with anger and hurt. “You’ve made it perfectly clear you don’t need me anymore. So why should I waste my time protecting someone who doesn’t even care about me?” Her knees felt weak, but she refused to let him see how much his words stung. She squared her shoulders, her voice trembling with defiance. “If that’s how you really feel, then maybe I don’t need your protection.”

Antinous stared at her for a long moment, his chest heaving as he tried to rein in his temper. Finally, he scoffed and turned on his heel, heading for the door.

“Good luck, Y/N,” he said coldly, not looking back. “You’re going to need it.”

And with that, he stormed out, leaving her standing alone, her tears threatening to spill over once more.

@procrastination20 @jackiepackiee @barrythestrawberry041 @blessedbyahuntress @eyuunho @f3r4lfr0gg3r @permanently-nothere @jackintheboxs-world @simpingmyassoff @sunshinewhosketches @xo-cuteplosion-xo

[whayjhey]

excuse this silly drawing but— once upon a time i thought of a padme!survives au where she raises the twins in tatooine but she has no idea who vader is and it went a little something like this: Padmé eyed her five-year-old daughter from across the table. Leia was in a grumpier mood than usual, evidenced in the way she gripped her spoon tightly and the way she chomped on her breakfast like an angry Sarlaac. (Padmé was reminded of how her baby girl looked a lot like Anakin, especially when she was this way. Her heart clenched at the thought.)

"Leia," Padmé said when she was no longer able to take the silence. "Sweetie, what's wrong?" And where in the galaxy was Luke? Leia grumbled a reply, one that her mother could barely hear. "Use your words, sweetheart," Padmé chastised half-heartedly. "I said," Leia huffed, looking up finally, her brown eyes meeting its identical, yet older, counterpart. "Why didn't you tell me about Daddy?" The admission caught the former senator off-guard.

Padmé's brows furrowed, confused. "What do you mean, baby? Of course I've told you about Daddy." About one side of him, anyway. The one of the kind Jedi Knight, her handsome protector. Of her sweet husband, the love of her life. Of the man who was so excited to have a baby, but had fallen along with the demise of the Republic before he had gotten the chance to know that he was a father of two. "No, Mama," Leia argued. "I mean— why didn't you tell me Daddy was alive?"

Before Padmé got a chance to react, Luke bounded into their small dining area, hands clutching a piece of paper close to his chest. "Mama!" Luke exclaimed excitedly. "Look, I drew Daddy!"

He slammed the tiny piece of paper onto the table.

Padmé paled at what she saw.

She almost balked at the words "DADDY" scribbled in his childlike handwriting, underneath the sketch of the galaxy's most feared.

She took a deep breath after a moment of silence. "Luke," she whispered shakily. Her son had a smile so bright she didn't have the heart to warn him of the man — if Vader even was one? — on paper.

The Empire had little of its propaganda on the sand planet; how in the living Force was Luke able to conjure the image of Palpatine's right hand man? Worse, why was Luke suddenly calling him his father? It didn't make sense.

It was Leia who brought Padmé out of her state of shock. "It's not fair!" the little girl cried. "How come Luke gets to dream of Daddy but not me!"

Padmé was having a hard time comprehending. "You dreamt of him?" She asked Luke, who was still eyeing his work of art proudly.

"Yeah!" Luke nodded his head happily. "I dreamt of him, Mama! He had a big black suit and a glowy red sword and he said he was Daddy!"

"Luke," Padmé started again. Kriff, she didn't want to break his heart. "Are you sure, sweetie? It was only just a dream."

Dreams. Force forbid, Padmé had to deal with another one. The last important dream belonging to a certain someone ended up costing her her entire world.

"I'm sure, Mama," Luke said seriously. "He walked up to me and said, 'Luke, I am your father!' He was very tall! Do you think I can get to be as tall as Daddy, Mama?"

Padmé blinked once. Twice.

After everything she'd ever been through, she didn't think that she'd be caught off guard by anything anymore.

She didn't want to believe it. This was all simply a misunderstanding. Luke had been always wanting to meet his Daddy; maybe her baby boy was just projecting, his wishes manifesting itself in his dreams and imagination.

Not all visions by Force users turned out to be true; she was living proof of that.

Padmé watched as Luke continued to boast about his encounter with his supposed father, Leia pouting in jealousy beside him. Right. Luke was just a boy. It was only just a dream. She could already see the difficult conversation ahead with her twins.

But then she couldn't help thinking... why would Luke picture Vader, of all the people? She needed a chat with Obi-wan. Soon. (check out the rest of my stuff: masterpost)

[graysturns]

𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕒 𝕘𝕖𝕥 𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕕? | 𝕔.𝕤.

1.5k+ words

note: hey guys :) this should be short and sweet but i hope you like it anyways. i love soft chris! also last pic is me on my period and that’s why i wrote this + i hate rachel

warnings: none i think just me hating my coworker

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

long as you dreaming bout me ain’t no problem,

i don’t got nobody, just with you right now,

11:47 pm

my phone buzzes twice, causing it to brightly light up in its spot right by my face.

“ughh, leave me alone!” i groan, tossing it to chris’ side of the bed.

“what is it baby?” chris walks into our room, shutting the door quietly and placing a water bottle on my nightstand. he sits beside me and rubs my back slowly.

“rachel from work wants me to cover her shift tomorrow. something about ACT testing.”

he raises an eyebrow at me. “isn’t that something you would request the day off for? y’know like, in advance?”

“that’s what i said.” i roll my eyes before proceeding.

“i already told her no, but she keeps insisting because i’m the only person off tomorrow.”

chris leans over to grab my phone, unlocking it and putting it on do not disturb.

“it’s about time you have a day off. they’ve been putting you on the schedule every day now.” he sighs, combing his fingers through my hair.

“i know. and today was shit.” i huff out.

“do you wanna talk about it?” chris watches me intently.

“i just don’t wanna complain too much.”

“baby, i looove hearing you complain. it’s like, my favorite part of every day.” he taunts.

“only if you insist,” i sit up and smile cheekily at him.

he repositions himself so he sits across from me, pulling his knees up under his chin.

“talk to me sweetheart,” he grabs my hand, kissing my knuckles.

“so i clock in, and right away i’m being told to get on the espresso machine. my manager was supposed to work alongside me but she kept getting pulled away for manager things so i was doing both positions at our station, which is fine, but during a rush it can be a lot.” i start to ramble.

“and the second she gets back, i get the feeling that i started my period! and i completely forgot about it because i’ve been so busy, so i didn’t have any tampons on me,” i continue.

chris drops my hand and reaches into his hoodie pocket, revealing a bottle of pamprin.

“i actually got the notification earlier from your period app, so i brought these upstairs.” he smiles to himself, opening the bottle and shaking a couple tablets out on my palm.

“chris, thank you!” i exclaim, popping them in my mouth and taking a sip of the water.

“of course babe, i got you.” he pokes my stomach.

“so what else happened?” he asks me.

“well after that it slowed down a little. but the whole coffee shop was a mess after the rush and since we were closing, we had to deep clean everything. i’m just so sore and i want to die,”

“i get it, babe. did you shower yet?”

“the second i got home. fucking rachel spilled a pitcher of cold brew on my thigh and i was so sticky.”

he nods with a slight smile, moving his body up against the headboard.

he laid back in his spot and motioned me over to lay on his chest.

“fucking rachel.” he tsks while rubbing my back.

“why do you hate her so much anyways?” he drops his head to look at me.

“well, do you remember that one day you came through the drive through right before my shift ended? you were picking me up and decided to get a drink.”

he thinks for a moment, “mhm?”

“well she was working the window, and she came to tell us all there was a hot guy outside. basically telling the girls to come look,”

“yeah i remember a few girls came by, pretending to stock cups or something. that’s rachel?”

my lips drew a tight line.

“remember how she had you pull into a parking spot, saying they’d bring the drink out to you?”

“mhm?” he asks again.

“well, she decided to write her number down on a slip of paper and hoped to give it to you on her way out, along with your coffee. i left before her, so while i was getting settled in the car, she was walking up to you trying to rizz you up.”

his mouth forms an ‘o’.

“what a sneaky bitch!” he chuckles.

i roll my eyes at him.

“chris it’s not funny. my coworker wants to fuck you.”

“well it’s never gonna happen, sweetheart. she’s insane if she thinks that.”

i mess with the drawstring on his hoodie, picking at the plastic end.

“it’s just frustrating. she’s been doing little things to mess with me, since the moment she saw us together in your car. like today with the cold brew, that was fully on purpose.”

he sighs, patting the back of my head. “why don’t you just quit? you don’t need to work.”

“chris, you can’t pay for everything,” i sigh, dropping the thin rope.

“i actually can. besides, i’d much rather have you here at home, happy and free to do what you want with all that extra time.”

i smile up at him, lightly running my nails across his stubble.

“you’re too sweet to me, but i can’t let you financially support me chris. we aren’t even married.”

this time, he rolls his eyes at me.

“so what? we already live together. you’re my shawty or whatever the kids say,” he laughs, picking up a strand of my hair, tickling my nose with the end.

“the kids in 2009, and don’t say that ever again, chris.” i snort.

“no but seriously. i know how much you hate this job. and fucking rachel.” he smirks.

“i’ll apply to a few different places in the morning. and we’ll go from there.”

“no, y/n.” he grabs my hand, holding it between us.

“it’s making you miserable, you can quit now and i’ll hold things down until you find something else.”

“chris, i already told you, it’s not fair to you. you’re not my husband, and you don’t need to provide for me.”

he looks to the ceiling for a moment, pondering.

chris faces me again, grabbing hold of my cheeks. “wanna get married?”

“married? chris i-i’d marry you in an instant but not for this reason. you can’t be-“

he pulls away from me and leans over his side of the bed, digging through his nightstand.

turning to face me, he opens his fist to reveal a ring.

what the hell? i sit up quickly.

“y/n.” he holds the ring up.

“i’ve been wanting to do this for a while. i know my timing may not be ideal, but i hate the fact that i’m not your husband, and i hate the fact that you won’t let me take care of you. married or not, i’m always going to be here to take care of you, to help you, to love on you, especially when you’re having a day like today.” chris takes my hands in his, holding the ring on his fingertip.

“..but i’d really rather be married to you and do all those things.”

“chris, you don’t mean..” i begin.

“don’t act all surprised now.” he wiggles his eyebrows.

“you know i love you, we’ve talked about getting married someday. i think we should just do it sooner than later.”

“chris, i don’t know what to say. i want to marry you, i just don’t think it should be because i hate my job.”

“it’s not because of that. i’ve been planning this, if i wasn’t then there wouldn’t be a ring here. what do you think?”

“holy fuck, chris.” i take his hand and open it, placing my left one in his palm.

“let’s get married.” i smile up at him.

he slides the ring on and tackles me into a hug, causing us both to fall backwards on the bed.

“i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you!” he chants while peppering kisses all over my face.

short, sweet kisses turn into a long, heated make out that gets interrupted by three dings from my phone.

“did you not see me turn your phone on do not disturb?” chris huffs out.

“i swear to god if it’s rachel..” i pause, leaning over to pick up my phone.

“she did that ‘notify anyway’ thing. she’s insisting i cover for her tomorrow.”

my phone starts to buzz in my hand, causing chris’s head to snap in its direction.

“absolutely not!” he grabs the phone and clicks it off, throwing it on the other side of the bed.

“fucking rachel. someone needs to punch her in her throat.” he says jokingly.

“h-hello?” a small voice escapes my phone.

“shit, chris i thought you declined the call!” i lunge for the device, end the call and turn the phone off.

“do you think she heard me?” he asks, wide eyed, with a smile tugging on the corners of his lips.

“i don’t care, i’m quitting that job anyways. i have a husband now.’ i beam at him, waving my hand in his face.

“hell yeah you do!” he places his hands on my waist and brings me back down to him.

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

hope u liked it 🤍 also this is dedicated to rachel i hate u please quit so i don’t have to! just kidding that’s mean! (i’m not)

comment if u hate rachel too

tags!

@imwetforyourmom @anonymouslyachrisgirl @junnniiieee07 @imtalkinnonsense @wh0resstuff

if you wanna be added comment here!

[harrywavycurly]

Could we get the engagement party or something with Harry and his now bff fiancé?? I love them😍

Hiii lovey!! I’m so glad you love them, I do too!! I’m give you a little something showing their engagement party! I hope you enjoy💖

-Find all things Lonely here✨

Summary: It’s your engagement party and Harry has to keep letting other people steal you away from him✨

“Do you mind if I say a few words?” You feel Harry’s hand give your knee a little squeeze as he leans over and whispers in your ear. You turn to look at him as you place your drink on the table that’s decorated with lovely shades of white and powder pink flowers with candles scattered all around. “I swear I’ll make it quick.” He adds with a smirk making you roll your eyes as you lean over and place a kiss to his cheek.

“You don’t know how to do anything quickly Harry.”

“Tonight is supposed to celebrate how much we love each other yet here you are being mean to me.” You laugh as Harry gives your knee another squeeze before removing it so he can grab his drink as you look around the table. Your eyes land on Niall who is looking at you with a grin on his face, he just gives you a reassuring nod as he takes a sip of his drink before he goes back to his conversation with Gemma who’s sat across from him.

You can’t help but smile and lean into Harry’s side as his arm drapes across the back of your chair as his lips find their way to the top of your head. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous at first at the idea of having an engagement party, not really knowing how people would react when they heard the news that your longtime bestfriend had proposed not once but twice and that’s when you finally said yes. But Harry swore that the people who mean the most to the two of you would be supportive and as much as you hate to admit it, he was right. The proof being all the people sitting around you right now in the private patio bar of one of your favorite restaurants that’s been decorated with little hints of you and Harry tucked in between all the pink and white decor. One of your favorite little nods to your relationship being the fact the shade of pink used to decorate the tables is the exact same shade of pink as Harry’s suit he wore the first time he asked you to marry him in your backyard.

“Hello everyone.” You’re suddenly brought out of your thoughts by Harry’s voice coming from above you as you notice he’s now standing and has his drink in his hand. “I swore I’d make this quick.” He looks down at you and shoots you a wink making you shake your head as everyone just chuckles because they all know Harry and his inability to tell a story or make a toast quickly. “I just want to thank you all for coming tonight to help us celebrate starting the next chapter of our lives together and I know that to some this was a little bit of a shock while to others the only shocking thing was how long it took for us to get here.” You smile as he looks down and reaches for your hand so his can interlock his fingers with yours.

“It may have taken eleven years and two marriage proposals for us to end up here.” You look up at him as you try to blink back the tears that are wanting to form behind your eyes. “But the important thing is we’re here and I’ve never been happier so even if it took twenty years and five proposals that would be fine with me if it meant I’d still get to be standing here holding her hand in the end.” Harry looks down at you and gives your hand a firm squeeze as you swipe under your eyes with your free hand not able to stop a few tears from escaping as you listen to him speak. “I love you sweetheart. Thanks for agreeing to letting me love you for the rest of my life.” You hear a collection of sniffles and claps as he leans down and places a sweet kiss to your lips before he takes his seat.

“I’d like to say something as well.” You feel Harry bring your joined hands up to his lips as you turn your head and see Niall starting to stand up. “I’ve never seen two people so perfect for each other take so bloody long to realize it.” You hear Harry laugh as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles while Niall turns his body so he’s facing the two of you a little better. “But I’m happy you finally did and I mean I think you could’ve just asked her on a date or something Harry but I guess when you know you know right?” Niall’s voice is playful making everyone laugh as Harry just nods while you smile at one of your bestfriends who you know is nothing but happy for the two of you. “I love you both and I can’t wait to see what the future holds for the two of you.” He holds up his drink and you reach to grab yours. “To the future Mr. and Mrs. Styles!” You take a sip of your drink as you feel Harry let go of your hand and wrap his arm around your shoulders pulling you into his side.

“Never going to get tired of hearing that.” His voice is a low whisper in your ear. “Future Mrs. Styles.” You feel him place his lips to the side of your head as you let out a sigh of content.

“Yeah well I still have time to change my mind and make you take my last name.”

“Always so sweet to me but you know I’d happily do that if it’s what you really wanted.”

“Really?”

“Whatever gets you down the aisle lovey.”

“Are you worried I’m not going to make it down the aisle?” You ask as you turn to look at him with a raised eyebrow to which he just shrugs as he takes a sip of his drink.

“I don’t know if I’m worried but-”

“Oh he’s terrified you’re going to change your mind.” Gemma’s teasing voice makes Harry roll his eyes as he takes another sip of his drink while you just give him a look that is your way of asking if she’s serious. “But I keep telling him that you wouldn’t have said yes if you didn’t actually want to.” You turn your attention away from Harry so you can face his sister who is kneeling beside your chair with a hand on your shoulder and a glass of wine in her other. “Because while my baby brother may be cute that doesn’t mean he can get you to do anything you don’t want to.” She leans over so she can shoot her brother a playful look making him just chuckle because of course she’s right, he hasn’t ever in all the years he’s known you been able to get you to do anything you don’t want to do no matter how pouty he makes his frown or how hard he bats his long eyelashes at you.

“That doesn’t stop him from trying though does it?” She asks causing you to chuckle while Harry lets out a small huff and you can feel his breath on your neck as he turns so he can look at his sister. “Do you mind buggering off so I can talk to my soon to be sister alone?” Her eyes are on Harry’s as she stands up and motions towards his seat making him sit up straight and shake his head in amazement that she’s actually asking him to get up.

“What? This is my engagement party Gem you can’t just make me leave my fiancé in the middle of it.”

“Harry you have the rest of your life to be sat next to her at dinner parties now get up off your rump and let me have your seat.”

“But I’m gonna-”

“I know you’ll miss her but mum actually wants to talk to you so just go-”

“She does not she’s busy talking to Niall and Amelia.”

“Fine if you won’t get up then I’ll just take her with me.” This makes Harry just roll his eyes at his sister as she looks down at you with a knowing smile, you reach to grab your drink and start to stand up but Harry is quick to place a hand on your shoulder stopping you.

“Make her cry and I’ll be forced to tell mum that you’re the one who broke her favorite Christmas plate we used to leave cookies on that she had to spend a whole weekend glueing back together last year.” His glare towards his sister is only half serious as he stands up after grabbing his drink off the table, Gemma just rolls her eyes at his sad excuse of a threat. You look up at him with a smile when you feel him give your shoulder a squeeze, he quickly leans down so his lips are right next to your ear. “I’ll miss you terribly my love.” You feel your cheeks get warm as you feel his lips place a quick kiss just below your ear before standing up.

“Thank you little brother.” Gemma says with a smile as she takes his seat next to you. “Now go stop Niall from talking mum’s ear off about Ireland and golf.”

“Yeah yeah I’m going I’m going.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too Gem.” You just sit and smile at the two of them, their bickering being something you’ve gotten used to over the years and sometimes you may think Harry takes it too far or Gemma says something that actually hurts her little brother’s feelings you know the two of them have an unmeasurable amount of love and respect for each other.

“How do you put up with that all the time? He’s so clingy.” You laugh and give her a casual shrug as you bring your drink to your lips. “You know when he told me he wanted to ask you to marry him I thought he was joking.” You take a sip of your drink as you look down the table and see Harry taking Gemma’s empty seat next to Anne who has a grin on her face as she places a hand on his cheek and gives it a little pat making Niall lean his head back with laughter. “I didn’t think he’d ever realize what had been standing in front of him this whole time.” You turn your attention back to her and see she’s also looking at Harry and Anne with a smile on her face.

“He’s always loved you I think?” You raise an eyebrow as she looks at you while you place your half empty drink on the table. “He told me something years ago and I’m not even sure he remembers saying it because it was after a few glasses of wine.” You watch her place her own drink down giving you a little smile as she reaches for your left hand. “He said he didn’t know how to not fall in love with you but he also didn’t want to know what it was like to be without you so he would happily push all of that to the side if it meant you sticking around.” While this information wasn’t new to you it still made you swallow the small lump that was forming in your throat at the thought of Harry just wanting you in his life so badly that he buried his feelings for you deep down for all these years.

“So of course when he finally realized you’ve always been it for him he does the most logical thing and asks you to marry him.” She lets out a breathy laugh as she looks at the ring on your finger. “Did he give you that lame excuse of he just didn’t want to be lonely and all that?” You just nod as you feel your eyes begin to fill with tears as she twirls the ring around on your finger. “He told me he was asking you because both of you are lonely and it would just make sense for you two to be together and honestly I was worried for him because while he might not have known at the time that his love for you wasn’t the kind you have for a friend but the kind you have for a soulmate of sorts. I knew how you felt about him. How you’ve always felt about him.” You feel her give your hand a squeeze as you look down the table at Harry who is already looking at you with a raised brow as he takes a sip of his drink.

“I wouldn’t have blamed you if you said no.” You turn your head to look back at her as she gives you a reassuring smile as you sniffle and wipe at your eyes with your free hand. “But thank you for saying yes.” Her voice is low and you can tell she’s also holding back her emotions as she leans over and places a little kiss to your cheek making you smile.

“She did tell me no.” Harry’s voice from behind you makes you jump a bit as Gemma just looks at you with a quirked brow. “Or she tried to at least but I convinced her to change her mind.” He adds as he leans down to place a kiss to the top of your head as Gemma lets go of your hand and reaches for her drink. “By the way mum wants to talk to you.” Gemma glares at her brother but he ignores it as his hands land on your shoulders so he can give them a gentle rub making you instantly relax under his touch.

“You’re such a brat.”

“I told you not to make her cry.” He says matter of factly while she gets up out of his seat still glaring at him. “Good luck sis.” Is all he says as she turns towards where Anne is sitting, this just earns him a quick flash of her middle finger making him chuckle as he gives your shoulders a squeeze. “How are you my darling?” He asks as you bring a hand up and place it over one of his that’s still gently rubbing your shoulders.

“For a party all about love I can’t seem to stop crying.” You joke as you run your thumb over Harry’s knuckles as you look up at him. He just smiles as he leans down and places a kiss to your forehead.

“Can I show you something?” You just nod as he releases his grip on your shoulders so you can stand up. “Have I told you how lovely you look tonight?” You smile as he holds a hand out for you to take as you maneuver around your empty chair.

“Only once or twice.” You answer as he leads you away from the table and over towards the back of the patio near the bar that was decorated the same way as the table you were just sat at. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” You give his hand a squeeze as you smile at a few people as you walk by them.

“Do you remember taking this?” Harry stops in front of a small table that’s set up with a candle and a vase full of white and pink flowers next to a picture in frame that has the year ‘2019’ painted on it in white. You let go of Harry’s hand so you can lean in to get a closer look at the photo and you instantly remember the exact moment it was taken making you laugh as you feel Harry’s arms wrap around your waist from behind as you stand up.

The photo is from when he hosted Saturday Night Live as well as performed as the musical guest. The two of you standing in his dressing room, him in his blue button up shirt and yellow pants with one arm wrapped around your shoulders while pointing at your skirt that was very similar to the shade of yellow as his pants, with his free hand. You had shown him the outfit you planned on wearing to the show weeks before hand so in the photo you have your arms crossed over your chest looking up at Harry with a fake annoyed glare while his face holds a giant grin as he looks straight at the camera.

“You’ve always loved to match with me haven’t you?” You feel Harry let out a soft chuckle as he places a kiss to the top of your head.

“Only when you let me.” He admits making you laugh as you turn around in his hold so you can wrap your arms around his neck. “Thanks for letting me catch up to you sweetheart.” He whispers as he leans down and rests his forehead against yours. “I love you.” You don’t even bother trying to fight the fresh wave of tears that start to form as you feel Harry’s arms tighten their hold around you.

“I love you too Harry.” Your voice is just barley above a whisper but you know he heard you because as soon as the words leave your mouth you feel his nose playfully bump yours before his lips are pressing against yours in a sweet kiss. Before he can pull away you pull him closer to deepen the kiss making him smile against your lips as you play with the hair at the back of his neck.

“You two are absolutely disgusting.” Harry reluctantly pulls away as Niall’s voice interrupts the moment you two were having. “Like I know this is your party and all but can’t you hold off on the snogging until it’s over?” Harry rolls his eyes as he stands up while you remove your arms from around his neck.

“Oh please as if I haven’t had to watch you and Amelia suck each other’s faces off at a few house parties?” Harry asks as he drops one of his arms from your waist so you can turn to face one of your bestfriend’s who is now glaring at Harry as he takes a sip of his beer.

“That’s different H that’s a house party. Everyone knows things get a bit wild at house parties.” You just laugh as you place a hand on Harry’s back and give him a gentle pat.

“Well this is our engagement party Niall so excuse me if we decide to get a bit wild at-”

“A bit wild? You call snogging in a back corner of a patio getting a bit wild? You’ve really gotten soft in your old age.”

“Old age? Mate you’re older than me.”

“Didn’t say I wasn’t I’m just saying you’re getting soft if this your new definition of getting wild.”

“The night is still young.”

“But you’re not.”

“You walk all the way over here with your bad knees just to call me old and soft?”

“No I came over here to steal my bestfriend away for a moment.” You put a hand over your mouth to hide your laugh as Harry lets out a groan as he looks from Niall down to you.

“Everyone is stealing you from me and it’s a bit rude.” Niall just rolls his eyes at Harry as you reach up on your tiptoes and place a kiss to his cheek. “Make it quick and if you make her cry-”

“Oh just go away already you lanky fu-”

“Niall James.” Your voice is harsh making both men turn to look at you, Niall’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink as he realizes he’s in trouble while Harry just leans down and gives you a quick kiss to your cheek before releasing his arm from around you.

“Good luck mate.” Is all Harry says as he walks past Niall who just rolls his eyes as you take a step towards him with your arms crossed over your chest.

“Niall Horan you were about to call my fiancé a lanky fuck at his own engagement party.” You watch Niall just shrug as he looks down at his feet briefly before looking back up at you.

“Well yeah but-”

“But nothing.” You uncross your arms and reach over and take the beer from his hands making him pout a bit as he watches you place it on the table that has the photo Harry brought you over to see.

“I’m sorry that was rude of me but I just wanted to get a moment with you that’s all.” You just nod giving him the okay to continue with whatever it is he wants to talk to you about. “You’re happy right? Like not the kind of happy you get when your favorite wine is on sale at the store or when the bakery down the way has your favorite flavor pie but like really happy?” His voice is full of genuine worry as he reaches for your hands so he can hold them while he looks into your eyes, you can’t help but smile at him because of course his main concern is your happiness.

“Niall-”

“Because if you’re not you know you just have to say the word and we can get out of here no questions asked.” You just shake your head and try not to let yourself laugh because you know he’s being serious.

“I’m happy.” Niall just gives you a questioning look as if he doesn’t fully believe you making you roll your eyes. “I really am happy.” You give him a reassuring smile making him just nod. “Harry makes me happy.” He just smiles as he leans down and places a kiss to the top of your head.

“Good because I’m already a child of an actual divorce so having to pick between you and Harry would be a little too hard on me.” You laugh as he lets go of your hands so he can pull you into a hug making you smile as you rest your head on his shoulder. “But you know I’d pick you.” He whispers in your ear before he gives you a little squeeze making you giggle.

“You about done getting handsy with my future wife or should I do other lap around the party?” Niall just rolls his eyes as you pull away from him so you can face Harry.

“Do another lap.” Niall answers as Harry grabs your hand and gently pulls you towards him making Niall laugh. “I love you two now don’t go back to snogging in the corner or anything too wild when I leave okay? Be proper adults and at least find a bathroom or something to do it in.” You laugh while Harry just glares at him as Niall reaches over and grabs his drink off the table before turning and heading back towards the party to take his seat next to Amelia.

“Why are we even friends with him?” Harry asks as you place your free hand on his chest.

“Because we love him and he loves us.” You state as you look up at him, he has a relaxed smile on his face when he looks down at you while he gives your hand a few gentle squeezes.

“How much longer until our wedding day?” You smile at the mention of your wedding day even though you’re not done planning everything and it’s still a mild source of anxiety when you let yourself think of all the little details still left to deal with you can’t help but get excited about the fact you’re really going to be Harry’s wife soon.

“Only like ten months.” Harry pouts at your answer making you laugh as you give his chest a reassuring pat as you reach up on the tips of your toes to place a sweet little kiss to his lips making his frown turn into a smile when you pull away.

“What’s ten months compared to the rest of our lives huh?” You want to roll your eyes at how cheesy his response is but you can’t, Harry’s always been a sap but he’s gone up a few levels of lovey sappiness since he proposed to you in his living room a month and a half ago.

“Exactly.”

[cosmichymns]

Devouring Desire

Not my gif. NSFW. MDNI. I’ll eventually put this on AO3. Smut. Just smutty smut.

She pulls you closer and encourages you to rest your forehead on her bare shoulder with a kiss to your temple. You sigh despite yourself. Her scent, the dim light of the corner she pulled you into, and the soothing rhythm of the music has lulled you into a state of pure contentment.

“Don’t get too comfy over there in that dark corner!” Morgan yelled over, catching Emily’s attention momentarily. She smirked, rolled her eyes, and playfully flipped him up. He shook his head laughing and swatted at the air in her direction before turning back to the group.

It was just supposed to be another casual night at Rossi’s mansion on the hill but after dinner, people quickly paired off. Alex and Reid. Morgan and Garcia. Luke and Lisa. Tara and JJ.

You and Emily. Oh, you and Emily.

Rossi’s outdoor patio and garden had always been spectacular but you had a sneaking suspicion that Garcia had coaxed him into letting her string fairy lights across the yard to the pool and down the pergola near the fence. Which was currently where you and Emily had found yourselves.

Emily’s arms wrapped possessively around your waist, hands sliding down to grip the sides of your hips as she lead you in an impromptu intimate sway. You ran your nose up along the length of her long, pale throat and inhaled deeply. Her signature jasmine and clove scent, which you have now begun to associate with safety, intimacy, and peace, filled your nostrils as you let out a heavy sigh.

“You okay, my sweet girl?”, she cooed into your ear as she ran a hand up your spine to cup the back of your neck gently.

“Mmhmm”, you mumbled before remembering she liked you using your words. “I absolutely am”.

Emily hummed pleasantly at that as you moved to drop chaste kisses along her throat where your nose had just been. She pulled your bodies impossibly closer as she brushed your hair to one side and gently started stroking circles along the nape of your neck.

You felt it was too needy to admit out loud but you wanted to be pressed against her always. You wanted your bodies to melt into one. You didn’t want to know where she stopped and you began. Never have you found a love like this. These thoughts in combination with Emily’s swaying and beyond gentle touches had you tearing up. You felt your face begin to flush at your embarrassment as you tried a few deep breaths to try and regulate yourself.

Emily must have felt you shudder against her throat because she pulled away slowly and inhaled sharply again at the sight of your tears.

“Oh baby…” she spoke softly, bringing up her hand to swipe a warm thumb across your cheekbones. She kissed the corners of your eyes, the rest of the world shut out as she focused solely on you. “Wha… oh, sweet girl, don’t cry, baby. How can I help? Hmm?”

You let out a self deprecating laugh at your less than sexy sniffle and looked up into her intense, dark eyes.

“I’m okay just…” you tilted your head as you thought. “I never imagined I would have this. Have… you.”

You dropped your gaze and brought your hands to her upper chest, playing with her small white gold dainty celestial padlock necklace that you had given her after a year of dating. Without knowing it, she had gotten you the corresponding key necklace in the same celestial fashion. You remember the words “disgustingly sweet” coming from Garcia’s mouth.

Emily’s expression softened even further at your confession. With one hand still securely wrapped around your hips, the other threaded through your thick, natural auburn curls reassuringly. She knew you well enough to know words were wind.

Holding the back of your head in place, she closed the small gasp between your lips tenderly. She explored your mouth for a few minutes, the two of you lost in each other, and bit down on your bottom lip gently as she pulled away smiling. Despite having seen it a hundred times, the sight of her beautiful smile always took your breath away.

Your chest heaved now as you watched Emily’s face flush slightly. Your hands caressed down her body, stopping underneath the swell of her heavy breasts. You raked your fingers against the underside of them, almost impatiently, as you looked up at her through your lashes.

It took her no time to understand the meaning of your gaze as she tugged you by your hips over to the darkened corner under the pergola. A loveseat had been dragged over by a mischievous Garcia earlier in the night under the guise of ‘making more room’. You allowed her to pull you onto her lap so your knees were on either side of her hips.

“Let me see how beautiful you are, hmm?” Emily said softy, racking her eyes over your body as you leaned back a bit away from her.

Your fingers played idly at the hem of her navy off the shoulder top before dipping underneath and skimming the soft skin of Emily’s waist. You loved that as she aged she filled out a bit more in the best of places. It gave you a comfort you didn’t know you needed.

“So lovely”, Emily muttered almost to herself as she used a hand to push your hair back behind your shoulders as you tried to clench your legs together.

She eyed your slightly protruding clavicle hungrily and ran her tongue over her bottom lip before sucking it in as you attempted to slip your hand under her linen pants. Her hand immediately caught your wrist and it made you internally smile.

“You’re awfully bold this evening,” Emily chuckled, never once did her eyes leave yours to look at the others around you but the darkness of this corner was not lost on her.

“I just want you so bad,” you said in a thick voice that was even a shock to you and Emily licked her lips. “I need your hand tightening on my throat, your teeth on my shoulder… I need…”

“What, my pretty girl?” Emily’s voice was barely a whisper now, the lust fully taking over.

“I need you inside of me more than-“, you whine quietly. “-more than I need to fucking breathe. Please?”

You could see the instant blowing of Emily’s pupils at this confession as she gripped your wrist a little tighter. You knew she wouldn’t outright take complete control of you in front of both your friends and colleagues so you sometimes pushed her boundaries a bit in public… and you paid for it at home.

“A desire so violent it seemed devouring…” the dark haired woman breathed out unevenly and so softly that you almost didn’t hear her over the noise of the rest of the team.

“Anaïs Nin.”

Emily hummed in approval while her eyes finally dragged from yours and scanned the outdoor space quickly, though you’re sure she had tracked their movements in her periphery. It had gotten late all of a sudden. Luke and Lisa were sitting on another outdoor loveseat, playfully smacking the other’s thigh deep in uncontrolled laughter. Emily smiled. The boys were hanging around the wet bar laughing and Tara, JJ, and Garcia were sitting around the bonfire in the middle of the yard, drinks in hand. She noticed JJ’s gaze falling to the two of you every so often and as you turned to see what Emily was looking at, your eyes locked with JJ’s. As quickly as it happened, JJ ripped her eyes away, blushed, and pretended to rejoin their conversation.

“I told you she liked to… watch us every now and again,” you whispered, turning around and slipping your wrist from her grip. You couldn’t read the look on Emily’s face. “I’ve caught her half a dozen times already tonight.”

Emily’s possessive, jealous side flared in her eyes now as she secretly wished you had brought a shawl of some sort so she could cover you. You enjoyed this protective, territorial side of Emily. It turned you on far more than it should. She pulled you closer to her body, the apex of your thighs brushing the softness of her belly before leaning in to kiss you hungrily. You started to slip your own hand under your already hiked up dress, gliding your smooth fingertips under the band of your lace underwear

“Let her look. Just touch me please”, you say breathily. You had always known JJ longed for something more but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. It was true you had caught her watching the two of you with curiosity and maybe envy? Whatever the reason, you felt empathy with whatever war she was waging within herself. “Please?”

“You. Are. Mine”, Emily practically growled, leaving harsh kisses against your throat and wrenching your hand from your underwear. She repositioned her arm so her palm was flat against your belly as it sunk into your underwear.

“I am absolutely yours. Always.” You breathed out, letting the statement hang in the air for a moment. “I don’t think it’s me, per se, but us. Some people are drawn to intimacy, to closeness. Voyeurs, you know?”

A moment passes before Emily speaks.

“You like it when she watches, don’t you?” Emily states matter-of-factly as she cups your wet cunt. “A type of exhibitionist.”

“What? No… I mean…” You take a deep, shaky breath as the short fingernails on Emily’s free hand start tracing up your arms, fingers toying with the thin straps of your sundress. “I like… um, when we are *almost* seen…”

“Mmhmm, exhibitionist”, Emily whispers as she pulls down the front of your sundress, exposing one breast. She leans forward and circles her tongue around your nipple, careful to not actually touch it. “You’re so goddamn wet for me, baby. So warm and slick.”

You can’t help the groan that tumbles out of your mouth and you can feel her smiling against your skin. Her fingers slip in between your wet folds to gather a generous amount of slickness and rub it on your clit.

“Emily…” you breathe out as you arch your back slightly, eyes fluttering shut. Your hands don’t know what to do with themselves so one ends up running your fingers through your hair and the other rests on Emily’s bicep. “Em…”

“Hmmm?”

Emily can feel your hot arousal flush against her palm and finally has pity on you, wrapping her lips around a rosy, sensitive nipple. Her index and middle finger start tortuously slow, wide circles around your clit.

You bite back a loud whine, trying to remain as quiet as you can but Emily has other plans. She bites down gently on your nipple and her thumbnail drags over the wet lace over your clit simultaneously. You cry out, mostly muffled by the music but out of your periphery you see JJ’s eyes focus in on the two of you.

You try to pull your body away in vain as Emily’s teeth continue to bite down, pulling your nipple taut as she refuses to let go. Her free hand holds tightly to your hips. Your body reacts immediately to the painfully pleasurable sensation as a higher pitched whine escapes your throat.

“Oh fuck, Em…” It’s high, needy, and loud. “We can’t… not here…”

Emily grins devilishly against your breast, giving it a pop of her mouth before answering you.

“I know, I know, baby. Just breathe for me. There you go. Good girl. They can’t really see us. Maybe just a shadow of the back of you”, she said as she trailed a line of saliva from one breast to the other, pulling against your dress as she went.

The affirmation sent a shiver down your spine as you let your head loll to one side, resting on your shoulder. Letting her eyes fall from your face to where she had been working so diligently, the sight of your reddened, angry nipple sends a punch right to Emily’s pussy. Humming, she takes the other nipple in her mouth, gently this time, and suckles lightly on it. The same way you do when you’re in a certain headspace.

Your face is hot and you feel slightly dizzy. A thin layer of sweat starts to gather at your temples. The sight and sensation of Emily pulling most of your areola into her mouth makes you breathe faster. Her cheeks are flushed, she’s looking right at you, and it might be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. You let out a shaky breath as you run your hand through her hair and grip the back of her head, holding her in place. You try to grind against her fingers but they remain slow in carefully controlled circles. You whine as you feel her fingers tighten their grip on your hips. You feel wet, hot cum pool at your entrance now.

“Emily…”

“Hmmm?” she answered, releasing your breast from her mouth as you notice JJ rearranging herself in her lounge chair, trying desperately not to be noticed. “Use your words, princess.”

Your back arched at the nickname you can only tolerate when you’re too turned on to argue with her.

“Please, it’s not enough. Faster, please. I-I-inside, I need you…”

“Hey, that’s my girl…” Emily coos sweetly in your ear as she takes her hand off your waist, light purple marks already blooming, and tucks a wild curl behind your ear.

A shuttered, frustrated sigh erupts from your throat as she abandons your clit and kisses you gently, your eyes being teary and lips pouty. She tuts you softly with a smile. Without warning or a second thought, Emily slams three fingers easily into your drenched cunt. Momentary pain morphs quickly into an intense, bottom of your foot tingling sensation as you buck your hips roughly.

Emily’s free hand reaches up quickly, palming the base of your skull, and crushing her mouth against yours as she swallows your shocked, long groan before it can leave your throat. You instinctively try to arch back but her hand has you trapped in place.

Exactly where she wants you.

Her thrusts piston in and out of you with such force that you know you’re going to be incredibly sore later. You feel the warmth in your belly seep into your torso and into your limbs. Your body feels like pure electricity as your increased moans and whines become music to Emily’s ears.

Neither of you notice but JJ is staring under lashes now and, though more than 30 yards away, Morgan has noticed a few odd noises coming from your corner of the yard. He eyes Garcia and she looks your way now. Panicked, she stands up and starts to loudly sing along to Africa by Toto in a mostly successful attempt at diverting attention away from the pair of you. JJ’s curious blue eyes still flicker between the shadows under the pergola and Garcia.

None of that matters though because you’re so close and Emily is swallowing your moans purposefully now. One hand anchors itself at the base of soft grey hair while the other tightly grips the forearm of the hand she’s fucking you with. As gently as you can, lest Emily completely deny your request, you push her forearm deeper between your legs. You press yourself flush to her skin now and nestle your face in the crook of Emily’s shoulder. She places sweet kisses wherever her mouth can reach.

“You’re taking my fingers so well, baby. They’re so deep inside you. You’re my good girl, aren’t you, baby?”

“Mmhmm, yes.”

“Yes what, baby?”

“Yes… Mommy”, you end up moaning the last part of the sentence as she rewards you with deep hum that vibrates through your body. “I love it so much when you fuck me hard.”

“I know you do. Are you going to make Daddy proud and cum right here on David Rossi’s patio? With JJ trying soo desperately to catch a glimpse of something and the others able to hear these desperate whines? Look at me, baby.” Emily whispers into your ear as you look up at her and nod furiously, your head still pressed against her long, pale throat. “Then show me. Fall apart for me.”

Emily quickly pumps her fingers once, twice, three times while curling her fingers to hit your g-spot perfectly while she eyes messy, tight circles around your clit. Everything catches up to you all at once. Her fingers. Your clit. JJ watching. The others trying to ignore your moans. Emily’s warm skin. And you come.

Hard.

Your hips momentarily stall out and Emily takes full advantage of the slight position change and fucks you as deeply as possible. She whispers sweet nothings into your ear, talking you through your orgasm. You see the most beautiful stars behind your scrunched eyelids. Or were they the fairy lights? Were you floating?

You don’t remember to stifle your loud groan until it’s halfway out. Emily quickly covers your mouth, only adding to your peaked arousal. You flood her hand with warm, sticky cum as she fucks your through a powerful orgasm. Your open, gasping mouth is pressed against Emily’s throat as you arch yourself into her. You can feel Emily kissing your jaw, your cheeks, your temple, then finally your lips.

This is pure bliss, you realize, as she slows her hand and coaxes involuntary jerks out of you by still rubbing slowly at your clit. Emily sweetly shushes and whispers praises into your skin and lips. She rubs your back soothingly and stills her fingers deep inside you, so very content to feel your muscles flutter occasionally around her. She knows how much you enjoy staying physically connected even after your orgasm.

“You did so well, my sweet girl. You were so beautiful moaning my name.” You soaked up her compliments like a sponge as you blushed even more than you thought possible.

For a long few minutes you both stay like that. So content to be intertwined with the other that you almost lost sight of where you were. Your breathing had stabilized and the fine sheen of sweet covering your body had either dried or had been kissed away by Emily’s full, red lips. You pulled away from her reluctantly, still able to feel her unmoving fingers buried inside you. Emily’s face was still only slightly flushed as she smiled at you but her lips were swollen and her dark irises were still no where to be found.

Emily started to very slowly and carefully withdraw her fingers from inside you after gazing down at you first. You nodded, took a deep breath, and relaxed your muscles that had molded around her. She pulled them fully out, immediately brought them to her mouth, and sucked each finger. Your eyes never left her fingers as she diligently cleaned them.

“I need to taste you, Mommy”, you murmured quietly, still watching Emily’s tongue as she now licked her lips. The need suddenly became overwhelming. “Please?”

Emily let out a breathy sigh and shut her eyes briefly as the pleasure of your words washed over her. “We can’t. Not here. They’ve already been privy to too much. We should get out there and at least make an appearance.”

Emily chuckled softly at your horrified look.

“I can’t go out there! And look at them. In the face!”

“Well as nice as this little cozy corner is, we can’t stay here all night. I’ll be right there with you.”

You sighed and took one last grounding inhale of Emily’s skin before lifting your head up and kissing her sweetly. Always taking care of you, she started trying to make you more presentable by pulling the front of your sundress back up, smoothing out the skirt, and running her fingers lovingly through your hair. You closed your eyes at her gentle touches, enjoying being take care of by this beautiful woman.

“Emily?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you know how much I *utterly* adore you?”

Emily smiled wide before leaning in and kissing you lovingly. “You’ll have to remind me when we get home.”

On the other side of Rossi’s backyard, the group waited anxiously for the two of you to step out of the partial shadows of the pergola before letting out a cacophony of overly sexualized moans. All but JJ and Rossi. The later had to be told something was going on over there because he simply couldn’t hear a thing over this “new fangled music”.

You could have died right then and there but Emily wore a goofy, almost proud smile as she playfully swatted your ass as you both made your way to the group.

Emily took a seat on a loveseat closest to Tara, holding out an arm for you as you snuggled into her side, blushing bashfully. She possessively wrapped her arm around your waist, resting her hand on your outer thigh.

“Get it, dude.” Tara said with a straight face, raising a single fist that Emily immediately pounded with her own.

Alex studied your reaction curiously while Garcia was just flat out relieved it was all over.

“Y’all nasty,” Derek said, playfully rolling his eyes and smiling before getting up to get another drink. “Anyone? Y/n? You must be thirsty after… all that.”

You inwardly groaned but the vibration of it reached Emily and she couldn’t help but laugh. You hadn’t been able to make eye contact with anyone but managed to nod your head.

“Yeah, something strong.”

You chanced a look at your longtime friend, Garcia, and smiled briefly before mouthing a silent thank you.

“Wait, what’s nasty? What happened?” Spencer suddenly interjected, looking around between you and Morgan. The group, including you, laughed at his utter lack of social awareness.

[odiesdayoff]

Kinktober: Tommy Shelby

Pair: Modern!Thomas Shelby x fem!reader

Summary: Your roommate's father doesn't approve of your vape.

Warning: Age Gap/Best friend's father/Dubious Consent/Tom makes reader get high

“I found it!” You yelled from across the dorm, your head poking out from behind the bed. Still partially stuck between the bed and the wall, you held up your strawberry-flavored weed pen to show Charlie. The amount of anxiety that losing it gave you was enough to realize that you and your roommate may have gotten a bit too reliant on the drug. 

You brought the pen to your mouth, but Charlie slapped it from your hand. “Dude, my family will be here in minutes! It can’t smell like Ganja Gooch in here.”

“What? You don’t have weed up in Birmingham?” You laughed. From what you knew about his family, they weren’t the most…clean cut people in the world. Why would they be upset over something so trivial as a weed pen? In your two years of being best friends with Charlie, you’d never met his parents. Only his Aunt Ada, who was sweet.

He placed the pen on your dresser. “Shut up. When are you parents coming?”

Most of the already small dorm room was covered in boxes, trash bags, and miscellaneous crap. “At 5. You’ll probably be moved out by then.” You pocketed the pen and began folding your bedding to shove it into the box it originally came in.

His phone started to ring. “That’s my mum. Are you sure you can’t go to Mary’s dorm?” You still weren’t sure of the reason that he was so cagey about his family. He had been to your house over Spring break this year and you were still in the dark.

“I have to finish packing.” It wasn’t a lie, you had put off packing until the final day. Studying for exams and final papers took up all of your free time. That and Mario Kart.

You knew that Charlie came from a rich family, but this was a new level that you haven't seen before. His father dressed like he was from the 1920’s or something, with a full suit and peaky cap. You could smell the cigarette smoke infused into his clothes before you could see him. 

His mother (or maybe step-mother, you weren’t sure) wore an elegant dress that was both fashionable and functional. Her deep brown hair was curled and pinned back. Her eyes lit up at the sight of you. “You must be the infamous Y/n!” She pulled you into a hug and you could smell her perfume mixed with a bit of her husband’s smoke. “You’re even prettier in person than in those silly Instagram photos Charlie posts.”

“It’s really lovely to meet you, Mrs. Shelby. I can’t believe we’ve been friends for so long and have never met before.” Charlie was still holding the door open for his little sister, Ruby, and didn’t hear your diss. 

She waved you off. “Call me Lizzie, dear. This is Thomas.” She pulled the sleeve of her husband and made him face you. He barely looked at you, though you did notice the way his eyes lowered down your body.

“I still don’t see why we had to be the ones to move Charles out, Lizzie. We can pay people for that.” Lizzie rolled her eyes. Why couldn’t he understand sentimentality and actually being present in the pivotal moments of his only son’s life? He only had one more year of university left. It was strange to hear him be called Charles. It felt all too fancy for someone so…normal. I suppose his father wouldn’t say the same. 

Lizzie scoffed. “Just start moving boxes, Tom.” She turned back to you. “So, where are you from?”

You decided to ignore Thomas. “Norwich.”

Charlie handed a smaller bag to Ruby while Thomas took a storage container. He pulled out his ID and opened the front door for the three of them. “The elevator’s already broken, so it’s lucky we’re on the first floor.”

~~

Having Charlie’s side of the room empty was a surreal sight. So many memories that were made in the room were basically erased at this point.

You took the pen and opened a window, taking it in and blowing it out the window. “And here I thought you were little miss sunshine.” You began to cough and gasp for fresh air at the sudden voice. Turning around, you locked eyes not with Charlie, but with his father.

Smoke billowed from your mouth. “Mr. Shelby- I…thought you all had left.” You rasped out the words, reaching for a water bottle to try and soothe your throat. He smirked at your attempt to hide your distress.

“My wife left her purse. I see you didn’t waste a second with your…” He snatched the pen from your hand. “What is this? Can’t you get real weed here?”

“It’s easier to manage. And rechargeable.” He examined the pen, shaking his head. He brought the pen to his lips and took a hit. The smoke left his mouth in a way you’d never seen before. It was skilled, he didn’t even cough. It formed into rings that blew in your direction. 

“Can barely taste it. How much weed is actually in this?” He examines the pen, and then his glance shifts towards you. "I bet you can barely take it, yeah?"

You rolled your eyes. "I'm not that intolerant. I've been high before."

He tosses it to you. "Suck in until it blinks."

It was a bit of a surprise that he knew what a blinker even was. He seemed like the type to exclusively use one brand of cigarettes since he was a teenager. As if he'd step foot in one of the fancy dispensaries you and Charlie were used to.

You maintained eye contact as you put the tip of the pen in your mouth and began to suck the flavored smoke from it. It took only a few seconds for it to blink and you could finally exhale. It was as if your lungs had never touched oxygen before. They screamed at you to cough, but you didn't want to prove him right.

"Another." He ordered, taking a small step closer. You weren't sure if he was getting taller or if it was just a mix of weed and perspective.

The vape was already hot as you rested it on your bottom lip. You breathed in again, holding it until it blinked. The taste was much worse and the sting against your throat felt like fresh salt in an open wound.

You coughed, only once. Typically, it took you much longer to feel the instant effects of the drug, but you could feel your hands already trembling under the eye of Thomas.

He nodded, finally close enough to put his calloused hands on the soft skin of your waist. "Again."

Something about his gaze and the absolution in his voice made it impossible for you to deny what he wanted. Your shaky hand held the vape up and you sucked.

His slightly chapped lips pressed against yours once you took the pen from your mouth. All of the smoke leaving your system funneled into his. You couldn't deny the way his contact made your knees weak and thighs squeeze together.

The weed was taking effect rapidly. Your head was spinning as you tried to focus on him. His lips traveled from your lips to your cheek to your ear. "Tell me, have you and Charles ever had sex?"

The words briefly brought you out of the weed and lust-driven stupor. You shook your head. "No...we're just friends."

He laughed. "Are you gay?" You denied. "Is he gay?" Again, you denied. "How has he not ever taken the chance to bed you?"

You could barely answer. His hand trailed up your leg and under your thin dress. Nothing could hide the heat that emanated from between your legs.

His free hand took the vape from yours and pressed it against your lips. Instinctively, you took a deep breath in, letting the smoke fill your aching lungs once again. "Is it because you're a virgin? Or maybe...you have an affinity for older men?"

You nearly stopped feeling the warmth of his hand on your leg until he pressed his fingers against the now-damp fabric of your panties. It was humiliating how much he turned you on...and how much the feeling of being humiliated by him turned you on even more.

"Mr. Shelby.." You coughed out, your throat sore and stinging with each syllable. As much as you wanted to scream at him to actually touch you, it would be too much to say at once.

Thomas Shelby wasn't a mind-reader, but he could read when a woman wanted him. He slipped his fingers underneath your panties and pushed into you. Your slick cunt welcomed him in without resistance at all. "Want me to stop? Leaving you high and horny while I go back to my wife and children?"

You shook your head no, silently pleading for him to do something over then idly have his fingers knuckle-deep within you. He curled his fingers, hitting the spots that your own hand couldn't reach if you tried, and moaned into his shoulder.

"Take another and I'll keep giving you what you want." Dazed, you sucked more from the pen. It was far more than you were used to, especially in such a short amount of time. Your legs threatened to give out, for multiple reasons.

"Please..." Your fingers lightly caressed his pants. It had been a while since you had anyone touch you, let alone someone like him.

He got the idea, pulled his hand away, and quickly freed himself from the confines of his trousers. There were condoms somewhere in this room, hidden in one of the boxes so your family wouldn't see that you even thought about something as evil as sex.

There wasn't time to look. You needed him now and it was only a matter of time before Charlie and the rest of them got suspicious. You pulled your panties down to your ankles and allowed his knee to settle between your trembling legs.

His lips trailed against your ear. "I'm going to show you a real high."

[berberriescorner]

How would rio and y/n react if marcus brings a girl home?

Okay, so my imagination ran wild with this one. It's a bit lengthy, but hopefully you’ll enjoy it nonetheless. I’m glad to finally have gotten a bit of a creative spark. Hopefully, I’m not rusty. Please excuse any grammatical errors. This isn't heavily edited and I went with the flow. It would be greatly appreciated if you all love, comment, and reblog. Please understand (I know some get tired of hearing it but it’s important) that writing fanfiction takes time and dedication. Then there is the fact that it’s free. Tapping the love button is cool, but it’s the reblogs that help writers. Try to keep that in mind 💓.

Word Count: 3,500+

Warnings: A bit of fluff, laughter, and a little *cough, a hefty piece of* spice.

The aroma of garlic wafted through your newly renovated kitchen. It had been an early Mother's Day present from Rio and the babies. Your husband swaggered into the kitchen fresh out of the shower. He watched you stir the pasta and smiled as you made a mental note aloud to add more cream cheese. The deep timbre of your husband's voice startled you.

“Stay put mama. I'll grab some for you,” he rasped, lips brushing the side of your neck. His hand left a gentle squeeze on your hip.

“Damn it, Chris. Baby, I told you to stop sneaking up on me like that. I should've known your stealthy, fine ass was nearby. The scent of your cologne and body wash should've given you away.”

He stepped back over to the stove adding cheese. You shivered as his fingers danced up your spine, curling around to the front of you. You hummed as his hand lightly cupped your throat. As if your body knew exactly what he wanted, you tilted your head, angling it so he could gain access. Rio’s lips trailed light kisses up your neck, across the jawline.

“Food smells good, darling. When we eatin’?”

You chuckled, slapping at his hand as his finger dipped into the alfredo sauce.

“Boy! Get your fingers out of my pan.”

“Damn, ma! I can't get a little taste. Come on, mama. Daddy’s hungry,” he groaned.

“That's on you. Shouldn't have skipped lunch.”

Rio kissed his teeth, swatting your bottom playfully.

“You know I was handling business, sweetheart. Don't start,” he teased.

“Let that have been me not eating. You would've jumped in my shit.”

His head shook in disagreement, “Mm no. I would've just brought you some food and insisted you eat.”

“Last time I brought you lunch it turned into an argument.”

“Cause you don't listen. You know you weren't supposed to be anywhere near that warehouse. It was a matter of safety. Where that's concerned, you'll always come first, mama.”

You couldn't help but smile and roll your eyes at the sweet sentiment.

“Whatever, bossy ass. We’ll eat once the oldest baby boy gets here.”

“That's right it's our weekend,” he perked up.

Though there were times Rio wished he could see his son every day. He knew that Marcus was both his and Rhea’s pride and joy. Rio was thankful that they had a healthy co-parenting relationship. Joint custody had always been smooth with Rhea. She'd never dream of ever keeping their son away from his father. He was grateful that they both managed to move on. They both found love again, remarried, and everyone seemed to get along just fine. Rio loved that you and Rhea found friendship in one another. Your kids adored Rhea just as much as Marcus did you.

“Oh, you thought I was making this fire-ass pasta for you? Nope, Zaddy this for my oldest baby boy,” you teased Rio playfully.

“That’s fine! So long as I get to choose my dessert,” he rasped, his eyes scanning over your body.

Your eyes met, both nibbling at your bottom lip. Just as you were about to dive deeper into the topic, Alexa announced someone was at the front door. You tapped your phone screen, turning on the ring doorbell’s mic.

“Rhea, stop acting like you don’t have a key. Bring your beautiful self into this house.”

You smiled as she giggled her way through the front door.

“We’re in the kitchen,” Rio called out.

“Boy! Stop all that yelling. You wake that baby up and it’s your ass.”

Your husband kissed his teeth, “last I checked this was our house,” he mumbled, walking over to Marcus and pulling him into a bear hug. “What’s up, man?”

Marcus answered his question, immediately following with, “Can I go check on the baby? Where’s everybody else?”

“Rudeness. Are you forgetting something,” Rhea questioned her eager teenager.

She chuckled as he looked at her in confusion as she continued, “Your bonus mama is burning in this kitchen. Probably for you. Did you say hello? Or maybe thank you? Where is her loving,” Rhea jokingly scolded her son.

“Sorry, ma. He replied shyly, hugging you tightly and kissing your cheek. “Thank you for cooking my favorite food.”

“It’s cool handsome,” you started, pinching his cheek. “The kids are in the theater room and the baby is down for the night, but go on up and steal a little sugar.”

Just as he was about to excuse himself, Rhea interrupted him, “Not so fast young man. You’re not slick. Don’t you want to share the news?”

“Mami,” Marcus whined.

“That’s okay, I'll tell them. Go on, scaredy cat.”

Marcus made his escape as Rhea turned back to you and Rio. She bypassed him, linking her arm with yours.

“Come, chica. I’ve got some chisme for you.”

Your husband, the big baby he is, groaned, “Nice to see you too, Rhea. Why am I not included?”

“Are you not in the room? You are included, fool,” Rhea teased.

“Chris, baby. I love you, but hush. I'm trying to see some.”

Both women laughed at him as he rolled his eyes and went silent.

“ Marcus sat down with us sometime last week. Said he wanted to invite his lady friend over for dinner. Our baby has a girlfriend, sis.”

The two of you stared at one another, several seconds passed. As if he was expecting it, Rio sighed, running his hand down his face as the two of you started squealing like school girls.”

“Mama, Rhea, the baby,” he reminded the both of you.

You both clapped a hand over your mouths, silently giggling.

“What's her name? Have you met her? The parents?”

“Baby, chill,” Rio chuckled.

You looked at him, studying him for a moment. Head tilted, you questioned, “You already knew. Didn't you?”

He smirked, “You already know the answer to that, mama. You know I stay ten steps ahead.”

“He told you first,” Rhea questioned.

“Listen, he asked for advice on girls a while back. I suspected then he had his eye on somebody. I played it cool. If you ask too many questions, he’ll shut down. We had the talk. About a week after that. Marcus told me he was talking to someone.”

“The talk,” you and Rhea said in unison. “Should we be worried about where this is going?”

“Ladies relax. It's better to have it early. Just to be on the safe side.”

“You gave him condoms. Didn't you,” Rhea snarked.

“Are you ready to be a grandmother? I mean I’d be the coldest abuelo out here, but let's try to prevent that from happening.”

“He brought her home for dinner the other day. She's so sweet and shy. Her name is Isabella, but she goes by Isa. He's got his papi’s taste. She's Afrolatina, a beautiful young lady!”

“Okay! I see my boy! He found him a woman who embodies two of the most important women in his life,” Rio praised with pride.

“The mom seems to be well-rounded. Surely we don't have anything to worry about,” Rhea insisted.

“The both of you were sweet and shy when I first met you. Need I say more? Then there's those stories your mom told me about your teenage years,” he smirked toward you.

“Sneak one damn boy through your window and you never live it down. Kiss my ass, Christoper,” you cackled, flipping him the bird.

Rio puckered his lips, bending down, laughing as you mugged his forehead.

“Sis! Your ass was hot back in the day, huh?”

“Chill on my wife. Tell me, how old were you when we had Marcus?”

Rhea kissed her teeth, “He got a response for everything, huh,” she asked you. “Anyway! He wants you all to meet her. Can he invite her over for dinner tomorrow?”

Rio smiled at you bouncing on the balls of your feet.

“I take it our answer is yes, mama?”

After a stressful Saturday afternoon, Rio stepped into the foyer of his home. His eyes drifted shut for a moment as he welcomed the delicious smell of lemon herbs, and the smell of your perfume wafted through the air. Sandals tapped across the wooden floor, Rio’s lashes fluttered open, dancing at the sight of you meeting him at the front door.

“Hey Papa,” you started, smile faltering. You could sense the heaviness of his day. “Long day, baby,” you questioned.

His head tilted to the side, an appreciative smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Rio’s hands cupped your side pulling you into a tight hug as he buried his head in your neck. Breathing you in again, his lips tickled the sensitive spot behind your ear.

“Shit was hectic, but I’m sure some kisses would make me feel better,” he whispered in a sultry tone.

Your hands brushed against his chest, as you tip-toed to reach his lips. He chuckled at your struggle to reach his lips, meeting you the rest of the way. Your lips danced together in soft, slow strokes. The sound of footsteps speeding down the steps interrupted the lip lock.

“Ma! Pops! You’re not going to be doing all that in front of Isa, are you? Why’s it so quiet around here?”

You giggled as Rio reared his head back. “I’m sorry son, I didn’t know you paid bills around here. Y’all be forgetting this my house…our house,” he corrected when you lightly cleared your throat.

“Your siblings can be a lot. We wanted to have time to focus on getting to know your girlfriend. I managed to arrange a night with Nana. They’ll be back tomorrow. She can meet everybody next time we have her over. Don’t worry, baby. Papi and I promise to be on our best behavior,” you teased Marcus.

“I ain’t promising nothin’. Listen, I’ll kiss my wife all I want, bro. Don’t be mad I’m the only one getting kisses around here,” he joked, giving Marcus a playful shove.”

“Pops, chill on me. Who said I ain’t got it like that?”

Rio cackled, dapping Marcus up. The laughter between the two stopped abruptly when they saw you standing straight-faced, head tilted, and arms crossed.

“I’m pretty sure I can speak for your mother when I say this. You better be acting accordingly with that young lady. Nothing short of being respectful is acceptable. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Your eyes landed on Rio, “Then I got you over here gassing him up.”

“My bad, mama. We’ll tighten up.”

“That’s what I thought,” you finished sauntering off to the kitchen.

 Rio turned back to Marcus and they both dapped each other up silently.

“It’s like that, son?”

“I learned from the best,” Marcus responded.

“My boy. Seriously though, not too much. Take things slowly. You have a lot of life to live. Don’t let thinking you're grown get you in trouble. You bring a baby home, and that’s ya ass. Papi can’t save you from the mama squad. If you can’t wait, do at least three things for me. Wrap it up, don’t do it in mine or your mom’s house, and don’t play with her feelings. You better plan on sticking around. Don’t be that guy, son. We’ve raised you better than that.”

“Yessir, I give you my word, pops.”

Rio embraced Marcus and gave his shoulders a firm squeeze as they pulled apart.

“You nervous,” Rio asked as the doorbell sounded.

“Just promise me you won’t let Ma pull out the photo albums.”

“Listen, I’m a man of many talents, but telling that woman not to do something almost always has the opposite effect. Ma listens when it counts,” he smirked, biting his lip.

“That’s information I honestly didn’t need to know, Dad.”

The first twenty minutes had been hilarious. You, Isa, and her mother all silently laughed at the way Isa’s father stumbled over his words while making introductions with Rio.

Apparently Marcus nor his girlfriend had taken the liberty of giving the poor man a heads up. He had suspected that he was going to assert himself as an overprotective father. One look at Marcus’ father and his bravado and puffed-out chest had deflated. Christopher wasn’t about to be checked by anyone and little did they know, neither were you. 

Dinner had gone by smoothly. The two of you succeeded in not embarrassing your son, as did her parents. Isa was a sweet, shy, and intelligent girl. You both loved her for Marcus. The teens had asked permission to have a movie night in the family theatre room. All parents agreed that it would be okay so long as it wasn’t unattended. You had even offered for Isa’s parents to join. Her father needed to finish up some work at home, and Rio along with Marcus, offered to drop her home in a few hours. 

As the parents you opted, to sit in the back row of home theatre seats to give them some sort of privacy. You didn’t want to crowd them too much. That and you knew with certainty that Rio was going to get handsy as soon as the lights dimmed. Twenty minutes of screen time had barely passed before his hand started a soft, tingling trail up your thigh. You allowed his fingers to make it inches away from the place he desired before swatting at him. His heated gaze met yours and the left corner of his mouth tilted up as he mouthed the word, “Why?”

Your head cocked to the side as you looked at him as if he were crazy. You sucked your teeth, pointing a finger in the direction of the kids. Rio wrapped his arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer to whisper in your ear, “Oh you really thought I was cold. You know why I pulled this blanket out, mama.” He laughed as you rolled your eyes, shoving him away from you. 

“Do that again and I’m sitting in my own lounger,” you sassed.

“All this space and you want to sit by yourself. Don’t be like that, mama.”

You had glanced in the direction of the children to see if they had overheard, but froze as you saw their hands inching closer to one another. Your hand tapped the top of Rio’s repetitively to get him to look. The two of you shared a smile at the innocence of the situation. Marcus looked back as the two of you tried to focus your attention elsewhere. The teen shook his head as his hand shifted away some. The two of you kissed your teeth and the sound echoed off the theatre walls as Marcus shook his head and Isa giggled.

It felt as if you had ruined the moment, and Rio attempted to correct the situation. Clearing his throat he asked the room, “Anybody want chips? Popcorn? Something to drink?”

You caught on and joined in, “I could go for some ice water and we can share a snack babe. Let’s go round up some refreshments.”

The kids had started to decline, but the two of you left in a hurry.

Rio propped himself against the kitchen island with his hands clasped. You crept towards your husband smirking. Your arms wrapped around his neck and you asked, “How much time should we give them to be unsupervised?”

“That depends, mama. Are you trying to be a responsible parent or a laid-back one? Responsible would be in the realm of maybe five or ten minutes. Laidback–about twenty or so.”

Rio’s hands traveled the length of your back, down to your plush backside. With a gentle squeeze, he continued, “I’m leaning towards laidback, mama,” he rasped. “Maybe we can take that time alone to–connect ourselves.”

“You truly have a one-track mind. We are not about to do anything with a guest in the house. Do you know what teenagers can do in twenty or so minutes?”

“Mama, what’s the most that could happen?”

“Our last child happened in twenty minutes, Rio.”

“We were pressed for time, and I was down bad for you that night, mama.”

“You’re always down bad for me. Even at this moment, you are.”

“No lies told. If you know that, stop playing. C’mere, mama.”

Rio nibbled at your neck, even as you continued to protest, “Rio, seriously. We should head back soon.”

“C’mon, mama. Let that boy cook for a few minutes. I told him to take things slow and to never do anything like that under his mom’s or our roof.”

“Oh, and you think that’s gon’ stop him?”

“Why wouldn’t it?”

“This is coming from the man, that was giving me backshots under his grandmother’s roof last Christmas.”

“We’re married with a ton of children. Trust and believe, she knows you’re getting handed pipe left and right, mama.”

“You get on my damn nerves. Always got a response–.”

The sentence came to a halt as Rio’s hand slipped into the opening of your dress, tugging a nipple through the silk material of your bra.

“F-fuck, Rio, don’t.”

His lips hovered over yours. The minty freshness of his breath fanning across your bottom lip. He nipped at it before asking, “You really want me to stop, mama?”

“Pantry, now.”

With those two words, Rio picked you up, legs wrapping around his waist, as he carried you to the destination. The door softly clicked closed, as he pressed you against some of the shelving. Your lips collided, tongues stroking one another, battling for dominance. The hem of your dress shifted upward, bunching at your waist. Rio groaned as his tented dark wash jeans ground against your damp panties. A moan slipped from your lips and he shushed you.

“Gotta keep quiet baby,” he whispered as his lips moved to suck at your throat.

His lips continued to nip and suck at your flesh. His long muscular fingers tugged your panties to the side as two fingers massaged your folds before gliding in to slowly stretch you out. The delicious feeling turned you into a whimpering mess as your hips began to rock against his movements.

“Yeah, just like that, mama. Are you gonna be my good girl and come all over my fingers? Yeah, you are. Aren’t you?”

He leaned in, tucking into the side of your neck, and whispered, “Bite down on my shoulder if you need to, darling.”

One of your hands slipped under his shirt as your nails scratched at his skin. You leaned back and pleaded, “Choke me, Daddy. Keep me quiet.”

The minute his hand wrapped around your throat, Rio added a third finger, thrusting in quick, deep strokes. His lips pecked your lips as he groaned, “Come for me, mama. Make a mess all over my fingers.”

All you needed was one last stroke to send you over the edge, but everything came to a halt as you both heard footsteps coming toward the kitchen. The two of you broke apart, fixing your clothes at the speed of lightning. The moment the knob to the pantry door turned, Rio snatched it open, pulling it closed with a bag of chips and a case of soda under his arm.

Marcus eyed his father suspiciously before speaking, “Isa got thirsty and you two were taking forever. So I came to get her some fruit snacks and a soda.”

Rio handed him a soda and explained, “We were coming back. Your pops negotiated a little alone time for ya. Did anything interesting happen?”

Marcus blushed a bit and responded, “Pops, can’t we talk about this later? I don’t want to keep Isa waiting.”

“You right man. Here take this soda and I’ll bring the fruit snacks and the rest of the stuff. Ma and I will be right in. She had to take care of something right quick.”

“Alright, Pops. Thanks.”

Marcus made it a few steps out of the kitchen before ducking his head back around the corner. Rio had started to turn back toward the pantry as he spoke up, “Pops? Tell Ma she can come out of the pantry now. Next time aim for a place that doesn’t house the food we eat.”

“Yeah, okay, wiseass. You’ll understand when you get older and have your own meddlesome ass kids. Take your lady her beverage and mind your business. You just couldn’t let your daddy cook in peace. Could you son?”

You were mortified and could barely look your bonus son in the eye for days.

Tagging some of my lovelies:

@darqchilddaydreamz @4everbrookemarie @starrynite7114

@amorestevens @bisexuallyattractivebitch @1andonlytashae

@rio-reid-whoreee @lovedlover @astoldbychae @percosim

@ravennaortiz @sunshine-flower @novaniskye @alertyoulikeitsamber @realhotgurlshit @abcdestinyyyy @jannavaire

[delopsia]

if heaven's a moment | Rhett Abbott x Reader

Word Count: 16,000 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+, AFAB!Reader, alpha! Rhett, omega! Reader. Size kink, forbidden love (ft. a weak excuse for the forbidden part. we're here for ✨vibes✨, not logic), food, running away, biting, mating cycles/heat, ruts, mentions of breeding (but no implication of children/anything of that nature), first times together, knotting, the worst epilogue known to man. Brief Summary: At one point, you suppose that you did. Marrying rich sounded like a wonderful idea when the subject was brought up ten years ago. But you just had to run right into the Abbott family's youngest son, the one who had nothing but a black horse, a couple of flannels, and a championship rodeo buckle to his name. A new ranch hand, with his scruffy smile and the kindest hands you've ever known. 

There are too many cars in this damn driveway. 

Scratch that, too many fucking alphas. With their bright, gaudy outfits and stupid, overapplied pheromone colognes that do nothing but give you a chemical-induced migraine. If those claims about luring in potential mates are true, then you must be an outlier because you've yet to find yourself head over heels for a man based on his scent alone. 

A warmth greets your nose; something tied between leather and the embers of a roaring campfire, a hint of smokiness lurking underneath it all. Just a hint of it at first, swirling around your head like a daydream and weakening your knees, growing stronger with every step toward this old barn. 

...on second thought.

The barn door opens with a groan, cutting through the silence and echoing up toward the house. Your eyes dart toward the back porch, still flocked full of mingling bodies in their finest courting attire, chatting it up like they haven't had an intriguing conversation in years. Whether or not someone heard that is anyone's guess, but nobody is interested enough to look in your direction.

Thank god because you don't have a single explanation for why you're slipping into the storage barn at ten o'clock at night. 

It's too dark to see where you're going, but you've walked this path so many times that you can do it with your eyes closed. Drifting around the corner. Past the four-wheeler that hasn't run since last autumn. Through the clearing that will soon be cluttered with seasonal equipment once the hands finish tearing out the brush that has taken over the south pasture. They'll promise it's gone for good, but it'll be sprouting again come spring, and the cycle will repeat, just as it always has. 

Clink.

Clink.

Clink.

The room spins. A weight appears on your back, forcing you face down into a bale of hay. The straw prickles your cheek, but it's nothing compared to the sandpaper texture that scratches the back of your neck. The coarse stubble of someone's recently shaven face.  

A cold nose brushes against your nape. 

"Hey!" You squeal, foot blindly kicking at a jean-clad leg, but he just does it again, blissfully unaware of the goose bumps rushing across your skin.

Arms curl around your waist. "What's the matter, sweet thing?" Muttered into your ear, as if there's a risk of someone overhearing.

"Your nose is cold!" And you've got just enough leverage to turn your head to the side, nipping at his jaw. Softly tugging at his skin with your teeth, ticklish little motions that have Rhett laughing, shifting to stand up straight, as if that has ever helped him escape your reign of terror. 

"'m sorry," that nose bumps into your forehead, clumsy, "I only finished up a little bit ago."

Even in the dark, you can tell that he's still clad in those leather chaps, dirty from a long day in the fields and on the back of his horse. This close, they'll surely leave behind a noticeable grime on your white clothes, but you can't bring yourself to care. This is worth the stress of getting your clothes into the washer before anyone can see the stains.

It only takes the slightest nudge for him to reel back, allowing you to stand straight and twist in his embrace. Pale moonlight peeks through the holes in the roof, bathing the right side of his face. Unveiling the smile that upturns the corners of his eyes and the fading cut in his bottom lip, split open in a bar fight this past Sunday.

"They're working you that hard?" Tilting your head to the side, curious. Peak season isn't for another three weeks. What gives? 

"Only on party nights," Rhett chuckles, and he's just close enough for you to feel it rumbling in his chest like thunder. "How else are your folks supposed to tell them rich fellas that y' come from a good ranchin' family?"

Your brows furrow. "I didn't know that I came with a dowry."

It's easy. Laughing with him and falling into his big, warm chest, wrapped up in those arms that ought to have been chiseled from stone for you and you alone. The scruff of his cheek scratches your skin as he snuggles you impossibly closer. Your nose bumping into his neck, just below the scent gland lurking there.

The voice in the back of your head wonders if you'll ever get to enjoy the privilege of him scenting you. Dipping his head down to rub the barely visible glands against you, not stopping until you smell just like him. The closest one can get to saying 'mine' without tattooing it in red across someone's forehead.

"So which of them alphas ya pickin'?" There's that solemn tone again, low and heavy as if the words are too much for his tongue to lift.

And you know that you shouldn't say this; it's only going to make this harder than it needs to be, but it slips out of you, anyway. "The one that's standing in front of me."

There's a sourness in the air. Barely there, but you're so close that it's impossible not to catch the switch, chased by the falter of a smile. 

Oh, why does he have to look at you that way? Deep-set frown and lowered eyes, can hardly bring himself to meet your gaze, as if this will all fall apart the moment that he does. But you're still here, even if it's for a fixed amount of time. You can't have him forever, but you can until your heat decides to set in, whenever that may be. 

"We'd have to flee the state even for a chance of that workin'," he's talking under his breath like it's a thought he didn't intend to make it past his mouth. But you hear it loud and clear. 

 "Maybe..." Feigning playfulness, if only to ignore the sour twist of your belly. "But if you ever decide that you'd like to start running, you know where to find me." 

If only it worked like that. You'd love to live a life so simple that he could run up to your window and steal you away on a random midnight. Off to live your own happily ever after, never to be seen again. 

Rhett tilts his head forward, then off to the side, those pretty blue eyes never quite leaving yours. 

It's like knowing that you're allergic to something and biting into it anyway, but you just can't help it. There are only so many times that you'll get to do this, and the number is shrinking by the minute. Nuzzling the side of your head against his neck and lower jaw, dancing painfully close to the glands on his neck, a faint sheen the only thing to indicate their presence. Rhett's so big that you could spend all day rubbing yourself against him like a cat, always able to find a spot on him that isn't drowning in the warm scent that you call your own. 

Out of nowhere, a sharp puff of air bursts out of him. Some little animalistic noise that you only ever hear when you're doing this, his nose nuzzling your temple as he makes that noise again. The arms around you pull a little tighter as if there was any space left between your bodies to begin with. 

A truck engine roars to life. Obnoxious. 

Rhett jolts, his head spinning toward the door you came through, stiff like some kind of well-trained guard dog. In a sense, you suppose that's exactly what he is, considering all of those bar fights with unruly alphas who could only see you as an easy piece of meat. 

"Sounds like some of 'em are gettin' ready to leave," he concludes after a moment, and he doesn't need to speak for you to know what he intends to say next. He's got to take you back to the house before someone notices you're missing. 

You can't help the whine that rolls out of you, pitchy and drawn out. This whole situation is so unfair; you just got here a few minutes ago! Why do you have to go back inside and parade yourself to men and women that you couldn't give a damn about? All because you were unfortunate enough to be born as some dumb omega. 

"Naw, don't get all sad on me," Rhett mutters, and you're not entirely sure when he moved, but one of his hands has risen to curl around your cheek, coarse thumb stroking the skin there. "I'll come to your window, a'ight?"

"Rhett!" Your leg twitches, kicking against his side. Pulling hard on his hair, thighs involuntarily fluttering around his head. It's the most you can do with this pillow wedged beneath the small of your back. Open and on display for him and his hungry mouth.

"Shhh," but he can hardly deny himself the simple pleasure of pausing to drag his tongue in a loose circle just to feel you squirm. "Don't want us gettin' caught, do ya darlin'?"

Whining, your head thrashes back and forth. There's a 'no' on the tip of your tongue, but you just can't get it out—two little letters trapped in your wide open mouth. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he's forcing your legs up over his shoulders, oversized hands spanning out against the outside of your thighs, keeping you put.

"Won't be able to eat this sweet little pussy if your folks find out," Rhett just can't quit talking. Babbling as if he's completely and utterly lost himself in this, in you. "Fuck, can y' imagine the look on their faces?"

You're not sure if it's the words themselves or the vibration of his voice against your clit, but something about it has a bolt of lightning jumping up your spine. Rattling a whine out of your throat, hardly stifled by the teeth that sink into your bottom lip, your futile attempt at keeping yourself quiet. 

"Comin' in and seein' a ranch hand between your legs, runnin' my tongue up your pussy jus' like..." and he draws just far back enough for you to see the way his tongue pokes out of his mouth as he begins to lick a fat stripe up your cunt. "This."

And your back is rising up off the bed, greedily chasing the burning heat of his mouth, as if even a second of no contact might break you into two. The beat of your heart spurred on by the sloppy, wet noises that punctuate his every movement. Half of it isn't even from you; no, it's from him drooling into you like a goddamn dog. 

There's so much of it, running down your thighs and into your sheets, sure to leave a spot that you'll struggle to make an excuse for. It's a problem that you should fuss at him over, chide him for making such a mess, but he's guiding a hand between your legs, two thick fingers nudging at your entrance, and you just can't bring yourself to say anything. 

It's impossible to be upset when he's got you so wet that you don't need to pause for lube, gliding into you with dazzling ease. So, so much bigger than your own touch, such a sudden stretch that you catch the hint of an ache as they bottom out. More. You haven't even gotten used to this yet, and yet you want more. 

Abrupt, Rhett's pointed tongue dances around your clit, fingers crooking upward, seeking a special little spot. "Can't market ya as an innocent little omega if they know a man like me 's been eatin' your pussy for years."

If only he knew how often you think about that. 

The memories that flood your mind every time you've been put in a fancy restaurant to be wined and dined by some well-dressed know-it-all, intrigued by the false purity he saw in your eyes. How it's not the small talk that has you fiddling with your fork, but instead caused by the crystal clear image of a cowboy who had gotten on his knees for you earlier that morning, eating you alive, much like how he is now. 

And the perpetual, hopeless fantasy of that same cowboy barging in and taking you for his own, fed up with this sick game you've been forced to play together. All because you were born an omega, so rare that the wealthy have begun to see you as a status symbol. 

Sparkles dance in your vision, glittering like fireworks. Course fingertips spiral into a little cluster of nerves, in perfect sync with the tongue still working around your clit. The invisible flames of a wildfire ignite, heat coiling between your parted thighs and flushing up your chest. Fuck, fuck, and the room is spinning around you, hands tightening in Rhett's hair as if there's a risk of being blown away. 

"Rhett, I'm—"

"God, y' taste so fuckin' good," mindlessly babbling, but those eyes are peeling open, the corners of them wrinkling with a cocky grin. "Y' gonna cum?"

"Uhuh," frantically nodding, the best that you can without looking away from him and this. The sight of him between your shivering thighs, legs propped over his broad shoulders, fits so perfectly that your heart skips a beat. That coil is winding tighter and tighter in your lower belly, body stiffening as his tongue keeps working you over, loud and sloppy and out of sync with the fingers working inside of you. 

His chuckle has your foot kicking against his back, a barely muffled whimper slipping out of your throat. "Come on then," a third finger abruptly joins, mouth sucking harshly on your clit. Lightning jumps up your spine, arching up off the pillow. "Give it to me, sweet thing."

And that's all it takes to have you clamping a trembling hand over your mouth, cumming without further warning. Crying out into your palm as your vision goes white, heart racing in your chest, spinning out of control. Feels as if you've been thrust into the clouds, soaring among them for a few fleeting moments.

The hand remaining on your thigh is what draws you back down into reality. 

Or maybe it's the sudden discomfort of emptiness as Rhett draws his drenched fingers out of your cunt, sitting up on his haunches, obscenely shiny chin catching in the light. The pillow pulls out from beneath your hips, and it's not until you feel the rush of relief that you realize there was a strain in your lower back.

The corner of Rhett's mouth lifts, the mattress dipping as he climbs up next to you. "Reckon I wore ya out." Those jeans still unfairly cling to his hips, a little too dirty to be allowed in your bed, but you don't have the luxury or the will to complain.

Certainly not when he's settling down, an arm draping across your belly, very nearly distracting you from the scent in the air. His usual leathery scent, mixed with something a little bit sweet, a little bit warm, and entirely you. 

"For now," you croak after a moment. The simple motion of shifting to lay on your side has the room rolling again, like some kind of fucked up hamster ball. 

On its own selfish volition, your hand begins to wander. Gliding up Rhett's naked chest, feeling the groove of muscle and roaming over the old tattoo lurking just below his right collarbone. It's almost strange to think of how it was brand new when you first met him, so fresh that he'd yelped when you ran straight into each other.

You shouldn't allow it, but you can't resist wandering down his belly, exploring the soft muscles of his belly, only stopped by the elastic waistband peeking out from below his pants. It's impossible to miss the bulge tenting his jeans, such a sight that it almost makes his obnoxiously large belt buckle look averagely sized.

You wish you were as familiar with his body as he is yours.

"It ain't that I don't want ya too," Rhett must be able to read minds because he's already jumping onto your train of thought, "'m still worried I might..."

Lose control. You know. This conversation seems to arise every time you have a little fun together. The dangers of an alpha who gets too carried away and leaves behind too much evidence of your private rendezvous. 

"What if that's what I want?" You say it so firmly. Confident. 

You want him and everything that comes with him. The Abbott name, the not-so-glamourous life of being mated or even married to a man like him. Hell, you want the dirt that tracks in on his boots, the stench of sweat that clings to him after a long day at work, and the horse he's dragged to three different ranches so far. No other mare will do. Only his. 

"'s what I want, too," his hand curls around yours, delicately guiding it up to his chest, where he can crane his head down and kiss your knuckles. "Shame everyone would be able to smell me on ya. Think I'd kill to be there when they realize their special little omega got mounted by some grimy ol' cowboy."

"You're not grimy," it's only after you say it that the memories come flooding in. Dirt clinging to his jaw and neck, all the times he hasn't been able to finger you due to some crude, black substance clinging to his nails. That one time, when he came back covered in a thin layer of mud, muttering something about heifers and tagging a damn calf. "...most of the time." 

If it's not the moaning that's going to get you caught, surely it'll be the fit of giggles that squeeze out of the cracks in the door frame.

The roar of a rodeo crowd never fails to remind you of why Rhett does this. Feet stomping on the metal flooring of the bleachers. Hands clapping in a thundering applause. Unafraid to shout and jeer as the numbers on the scoreboard count up.

Four seconds. The bull's head twists to the left. Back legs kicking high into the air. A plume of dirt kicks up.

Five seconds. Rhett's right hand bobs in the air. Torn between the sheer will to keep up for the judges and the overwhelming instinct to use it to steady himself. 

Six. Your breath fogs in front of your face. Shouting Rhett's name. As if doing so could possibly help him hold on. 

Seven. The scream of the crowd is rising now. Booming voices and cowbells so loud that you can no longer hear the beat of your heart in your ears. 

Eight. The buzzer sounds. Artificial flames burst from above the chutes. 

You blink, and he's off the bull. The bullfighters are scurrying like ants. Rhett's scooping his hat up off the ground. Spinning around to face the scoreboard just as the rankings make their switch. You think the crowd may have preemptively exploded into celebration because they're cheering and hollering before you've even realized what the screen says.

1. Rhett Abbott 89.5

You've got to read it twice before you finally understand what that means. He's moving on to the finals next week.

And lord, does he know it. 

Fist pounding against his vest so hard that his hair shakes with every strike, jolted by his own strength. Mouth open. Shouting something that doesn't make it past the arena fences, his wide eyes scanning the bleachers, slowly drifting until they seem to lock with yours.

It's impossible; he's so far away that you can hardly see his features. But he's looking at you, and he's grinning, waving a big hand toward a building lurking just behind the chutes. You've only been to these particular rodeo grounds once, but you've seen that gesture enough times to know what he's asking and that you don't have to head over there right now. 

You won't see him until after he's had his five-minute shower. When he's had time to scrub the adrenaline out of his system and doesn't run the risk of knocking you off your feet by scent alone. 

Do you still regret letting him know that he almost sent you into heat once? Yes. 

A lot.

Though it can't be all that bad. Not when you and your newly acquired chili cheese fries have the pleasure of stumbling across a hell of a scene. Wet, unruly curls and a thin white t-shirt that's ever so slightly too small, clinging to every muscle and curve of his chest, biceps bulging from beneath the restrictive fabric. You can see his tattoo right through it, that bucking bull as prominent as ever.

A pair of green eyes squint back at you, attached to wavy blonde curls and glimmering lip gloss. She's not the only one batting her long lashes at Rhett and twisting her hair between her delicately manicured fingertips; there's a brunette giggling along next to her. A barrel racer done up in purple plaid to your left, another girl in glasses wearing a rodeo hoodie, and those are just the ones that you've noticed. 

All of you are so different in nature, and yet, you have the same end goal: Rhett Abbott.

He'll come when he realizes you're here; you know he will, but hell if this influx of attention doesn't make your stomach twist. Technically, Rhett isn't yours. He can pick any one of these starry-eyed onlookers and never be happier. At least they'll never hold him to the constant strain of being with an omega.

 Something plops atop your head, so big that it falls into your eyes. 

"Whatcha starin' at?" There's that familiar voice that you've become so accustomed to, rumbling from somewhere behind your right shoulder. A familiar scent greets your senses: warm, twisted with the woodsy aroma of body wash, and...something else. A faint musk that makes your nose feel funny.

With the back of your hand, you push his hat up, peering at him from beneath the rim, "I was thinking."

Rhett's head tilts to the side. "'bout?" 

Something tells you that you weren't supposed to see the swift flicker of his gaze. Down to the forgotten snack in your hands, then back up to your face as if nothing ever happened. His tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip. 

"How I'm gonna explain where I've been all night," it's the weakest lie told this century, but you're covering up for it by lifting your container of fries. "Want some?" 

If he catches on to the waver in your voice, then he doesn't mention it, too busy fighting off the little grin working its way onto his handsome face, still clinging to that stoic alpha demeanor that you both know he doesn't have. 

One of these days, he'll figure out that his fluttering eyelashes are giving away his true emotions, almost excited to reach and take two of your fries. Cheese drips as he lifts them, so artificial that it hardly even counts as dairy, the perfect match to those greasy gas station snacks that he's been serenading you with. 

"Y' weren't out here waitin' too long, were ya?" Talking in between bites, sauce clinging to his lips like an absurd gloss. 

Your head shakes, cowboy hat jostling back and forth with the motion. "Only about a minute or two." 

A pair of sour faces twist your way, surveying the competition. If there even is one. Rhett doesn't so much as spare them a glance. Preoccupied with you lifting his beloved hat off your head and pressing his cheesy lips to your temple like this is some kind of normal thing between you two. 

"Hey!" You squeal, but Rhett's already on the move, dodging your light-hearted swat and shoving a stolen fry into his mouth. 

He'd ought to consider himself lucky that he's got those big, blue eyes to get himself out of trouble. With that big laugh that bounces around your head for far longer than it should, enough to make you a little bit dizzy.

"I thought you were worried about..." pausing to swipe at the residue with the back of your hand, wiping away his sloppy kiss, "you know, people seeing?"

Your people seeing. Or hearing. Or even catching the slightest whiff that you're entertaining the very idea of someone who wasn't at last night's party.

But Rhett just shakes his head, that stupid smile prominent as ever. "Ain't no-one to recognize us out here." 

...huh.

"So you're not worried if I..." Taking one step forward. Then another, until you're nose to nose, so close that you can almost taste the mint of his toothpaste. "Do this?"

His forehead thunks against yours. "Not one bit." 

Kissing Rhett Abbott has always been a dream, but kissing him in public is another whirlwind entirely. The rose-tinted novelty of cementing who he belongs to, whose arms you're meant to fit into, and all of those shallow things that onlookers really couldn't give a damn about. They don't care about the strong arms that wind around your waist, the palm that flattens against the curve of your spine. How difficult it is to blindly hold your fries off to the side, trying your best not to crush them between your bodies. 

As quickly as he'd leaned in, Rhett draws away, nose wrinkled. 

"What?" Is there something on your breath? Melted cheese somewhere on your face?

But he just shakes his head, leaning in for another kiss. "Nothin'."

It must have been something in the wind because he doesn't make another mention of it again. His nose doesn't even twitch when you drift past the food trucks, all lined up in the front section of the parking lot, with their fried snacks, greasy meals, and sugar-filled treats that ought to make anyone drool. 

You've only just finished your fries, but you've already caught sight of another truck, white in color, selling something that you don't know the name of but smells like heaven itself. There's no reason for your stomach to be growling, but it sings its little tune regardless of all the things you've snacked on this afternoon. Shame that you left your wallet in the truck and spent the last of your cash on those fries. 

Why are you so hungry today?

"See somethin' ya want?" Rhett's voice is damn near the only thing that can pull you out of your stupor.

"I don't need it," really, you don't. You've already had three things from here; if anything, another greasy snack is the last thing that you need. There's food at home. 

But Rhett's already taking you by the hand, drawing his wallet from his back pocket, and it's just so hard to deny his firm offer to get you anything you want. The food tastes exactly how it smells: warm and easy on the tongue. Your spare glance at the folks selling fried dessert has him bringing over two plates of it. Maybe it's something he wanted, or maybe he's eating it just to make you feel better, you're not sure, but it's gone in minutes.

In the time it takes to walk to the truck, you've acquired a bag of handmade candy, sweet and wonderful, aside from the bizarrely tart green ones that Rhett insists he likes. White lie or not, you're just happy that you won't be accidentally popping one into your mouth again.

"You're sure ya don't want anythin' else?" The squeal of the passenger door almost covers up his question. One of these days, he'll figure out a solution that'll last for longer than a week.

"I'm sure," though if he gives you an hour, you've got a feeling that the answer will be different. For now, your stomach is so full that you almost wonder how you manage to climb into the truck, the slightest bit dizzy from all that sugar and grease.

Or maybe it's from something else because it doesn't seem to be fading. If anything, it seems to be getting worse, the cars in the parking lot spinning around your head like you're in a cartoon. Even the subtle sway of the truck as Rhett gets in the driver's seat is enough to worsen it. 

You can't see it, but you can feel his eyes on you. "I don't think..." That's your voice...but you never planned on talking? What are you trying to say?

Somehow, you've gotten yourself into the middle seat. Close enough for Rhett to loop his arm around your shoulders, drawing you into his side. He's so warm that you melt like ice on a summer day, head falling against his chest, the thump of his heartbeat loud in your ear. 

"Sweetheart..." his lips brush against your temple, some little thing that sends a shiver down your spine. "You feelin' okay?" 

"Dizzy." Concluding before you've even realized what he's asked. "Why?" 

A hand curls around your cheek, urging you to nuzzle closer as if you could possibly need any more encouragement. You're already starting to wedge yourself into the crook of his neck, right where his scent is the strongest. The little gland hidden there has a thicker sheen to it than usual, glistening even in the barely there light.

"Rhett?" You try again, and this time, you might have a little more control over what your body is doing. 

His jaw scratches the top of your head, sucking in a long, audible breath. "Your heats startin'." 

No, that doesn't make sense. Why would...why would your heat be starting? This isn't your first rodeo; you would have recognized the signs if it was coming on. The mood swings, the sudden onset of clinginess, the sudden bouts of lightheadedness that leave you stumbling, the insatiable hunger right at the cusp of—

"Oh."

You don't even feel your face fall. Or maybe you do, and you're just too distracted with the sting of wateriness building in your eyes, distorting your vision, and already trying to spill over. No. No, no, no, no. This can't be your heat. You've always had them toward the middle of spring, never late autumn. That doesn't—that doesn't make sense. Why would it start now?

"Hey, hey," it's not until Rhett starts talking that you realize you've been muttering your thoughts out loud. 

Problem is, you don't care that he's heard you. How are you supposed to when there's the looming possibility that you're never going to see him again? Doesn't he remember? You've got to choose someone before your heat starts, or else your parents will choose for you! 

"I ain't goin' anywhere yet," he's pulling you in, both arms wrapped tight around you, and even the awkward angle cannot distract you from the shiver that's settling into your bones. 

"I don't want you to go anywhere at all!" You don't mean to cry out like a child, but it happens anyway, pitchy and breaking in the middle.

Rhett doesn't open his mouth again. He can't. The Abbotts may have a reputation for being able to repair anything they get their hands on, but there's nothing Rhett can say or do to fix this. All he can do is keep pulling you close until he's leaning back against the door, and you're settled up on top of him, with not an inch of space left between. 

Maybe if you don't move, time won't tick by so quickly. 

The one bad thing about time is that it does pass, regardless of what you have to say on the matter. Because eventually, that time does come when Rhett has no choice but to start his truck; there's an hour's drive ahead of you, and red flags will begin waving if you come home in a full-blown heat. 

For the first time in a while, you see Rhett's speedometer five miles below the speed limit, uncaring of the impatient vehicles blaring the horns. Doesn't get riled up when some asshole drives by flipping him off, hardly even fusses when the guy merges too early and nearly clips the front of his truck. 

All he's worried about is taking as much time as he can, keeping that arm around you for as long as he can manage. Only draws away to handle sharp turns but quickly returns soon after, and frankly, you don't even care about chiding him for his risky driving. 

There's some dumb, sad song droning on the radio when he finally puts the truck into park, and it may be dark in this truck, but you can still see the wateriness brimming his eyes. You know it because you have that same glassiness, too. 

You've got a million and one things you could say, and yet, you can't bring yourself to say a single one of them. There's no point in it; this is probably the last time you'll ever see him. Unmated, at the very least. 

The front door opens before you can utter a single word. Don't know who it is, nor do you care. 

Rhett's forehead presses against yours, mouth opening, then clamping shut just as quickly. Can't say anything either. But then he leans his head down, temple rubbing against yours, and it's the closest thing to a goodbye that either of you can manage. This short, unspoken thing; rubbing his scent on you for both the first and the last time.

Either something about him was warding off the vicious beginnings of your heat, or the very smell of him threw you off the deep end because you hardly make it into your bedroom before the dizziness takes hold again. Feet dragging across the floor, forced to guide yourself with a hand against the wall while someone else shouts their recognition to the whole goddamn world. 

By the time you get your door closed, they're already muttering about which Tillerson to choose for you. Luke or Trevor? Who is the most worthy of selling you off to, like a piece of meat? 

The dizziness takes over before you've even made it to the bed. 

If heaven can be a moment, then this must be hell.

Waking up is always the worst. A dull, incessant throbbing deep in your bones, the edges of your vision blurry enough to give you the worst tunnel vision you've ever had the displeasure of experiencing. Sleeping on the floor has done you no favors, leaving a stiffness in the left side of your body that definitely was not there before. 

It's almost enough to distract from the obscene wetness between your legs. A clear fluid that stains the crotch of your pants and has left a big spot on the floor itself. 

"Maybe sleeping on the floor was worth it..." you mutter as you push yourself to your feet. Cleaning slick out of a mattress is much harder than those YouTube tutorials cropped it out to be; you'll be able to clean that before another wave of dumbness washes over.

The wipes in your bathroom are enough to take care of it, taking it off the hardwood with ease. Leaves you with more time to figure out what to do about these pants, if you're committing to trying another heat while fully dressed, or if a nightgown, while uncomfortably exposing, will be easier to handle. 

Your instincts are itching at you to build a nest, but is it even worth it, all things considered? If everyone has their way, you'll be shipped off to some alpha's house by the end of the night. First with a weekend bag, then the rest of your things once the heat fades. 

And what's that sitting on your windowsill? 

It's an amalgamation of color: dark red, beige, navy blue, balled up inside of something gray. Hell, even when you're looking at it through the glass, you haven't the slightest clue what it is. Leaves you with no choice but to peel open the window and—

A familiar scent strikes your nose. 

Rhett.

These are his shirts. Wrinkled and warm from the sun, and oh, they smell exactly like him. You can't help but squeeze the whole bundle to your chest, shamelessly burying your face into them. He must have spent the whole night rubbing on these like one of those overly friendly cats.

It's about that time of the morning when he puts his horse up in the pen while he helps with the usual barn maintenance, but you don't see her anywhere. The other horses are there: two palominos, a paint, and a handful of chestnuts, but that sturdy little black mare is nowhere to be found. 

Must have put her around the other side. 

Something crinkles inside of these clothes, deep down in the center of them. You know what it is before you've even unraveled the mess of fabric. Snacks. Your favorite chips, a candy bar, and the hard candies that you didn't realize you left in his truck. A torn piece of paper has been tucked into the candy bar wrapper.

Don't forget to eat :) 

Such a simple message shouldn't have tears stinging at the corners of your eyes, but it does, and as much as you'd like to blame it on your heat, you know that's not the case. Funny how even the bare minimum can look like the greatest act of kindness when your heart is torn in two.

Between the impending doom that is the rest of your life and the next wave of your heat coming along, you've got no appetite. That was the whole point of your inability to feel full last night, your body's futile attempt at stocking up on calories before it devolved into a weeklong period of craving nothing but sex, and knots, and alphas, and skin contact, and everything else under that umbrella.

Still, you eat it.

It's not so bad when you manage to convince your heat brain that Rhett's little note was growled into your ear, an order that you cannot possibly disobey. Snacking on the candy bar when you climb out of the shower, taking bites in between your routine, finishing it off when you settle into bed with one of those flannels. Storm clouds are rolling in, and they're doing nothing to ward off the sleepiness your heat is bringing on.

Your impromptu nap is interrupted by the impromptu barging in of someone letting you know that Trevor Tillerson has been chosen as your alpha. He'll be here sometime around nine to pick you up and take you to some fancy resort that he's rented just for the two of you. Somewhere far, far away from Wabang and the dark clouds looming overhead. 

If you had a choice in the matter, maybe it would be romantic.

The chips get you through a bout of doom scrolling on your cellphone until your face begins to feel hot, and you're rudely reminded that you've got to pack while you still can. A righteous pain in the ass that does nothing but frustrate you to no end. 

How are you meant to shove a week's worth of clothes into so few bags? On your heat, no less, the one time when you'll be soaking through most of your garments! And your laptop, where the hell do you shove that? Between the shirts? Do you even bother with these shorts? 

"Why am I doing this?" You mutter it as if you've got a choice in the matter, idly pawing at your spinning head. 

At one point, you suppose that you did. Marrying rich sounded like a wonderful idea when the subject was brought up ten years ago. A life with everything you could ever want. Endless vacations and money to spend on anything you want because you were born an omega, and such a rare thing deserves only the best. You'd had it in your head that you'd find the person of your dreams dressed up in a suit worth more than your entire family ranch. 

But you just had to run right into the Abbott family's youngest son, the one who had nothing but a black horse, a couple of flannels, and a championship rodeo buckle to his name. A new ranch hand, with his scruffy smile and the kindest hands you've ever known. 

Now, here you are. 

Your parents have invested hundreds of hours and an insurmountable amount of money into luring in alphas. They've made friendships with the families of your suitors and formed expectations for the outcome of your life that no longer align with your desires. You're in so deep that a simple 'no' will not suffice. Especially not when Rhett comes into the deal. 

A sourness blossoms in your chest, spreading into your lower belly like a plague, gut-twisting and churning as if you're about to be sick. There's an invisible hand squeezing around your heart, so tight that it just might burst, but you don't feel nauseous. Not one bit, and maybe that's got something to do with the blurring of your vision.

"Rhett," whining. Rhett. You want Rhett. Here. Right now.

That dizziness is growing worse. A foreign heat spreads deep in your inner thighs, flushing to superheat the rest of your body, but your face feels cold, and something wet is spilling across your cheeks. Tears fall quicker than the rain pattering against your window. A never-ending stream that has you hiccuping, frantically sucking in breaths of air that never quench the ache in your throat.

It is the whim of your own frantic hand that leads you to grab your phone. Scrolling through your contacts until you land on the fuzzy shape of a name that you've seen enough times for it to be familiar. 

It rings.

And it rings.

...and it rings.

"Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice messaging system," that robotic voice drones through the speaker, already beginning to ramble off the digits of Rhett's phone number. 

Maybe he didn't get to the phone in time. Yeah, that's got to be it. You'll try again. He'll pick up this time. 

"Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice messaging system."

Thunder rumbles outside, heavy enough to shake the house, rattling the knick-knacks on the shelves and sending slick rushing down your thighs. Sticky and burning, and oh god, your head is spinning like you're on a fucking merry-go-round. 

Someone's knocking at your door, the distorted sound of your name dancing through the room. Whether or not you respond, you've got no idea, but they're responding as if you did.

"Trevor is here," her voice is oddly familiar, but a face isn't coming to mind. 

"I need..." shaking your head, rattling a coherent thought into place. "I need...a little bit longer to pack."

Silence. And then, quietly, "Okay." Footsteps echo through the hallway and then dissolve into nothing.

You can't see. The colors of your room merge together into a sea of splotches, a fire burning up in your chest, the embers reaching all the way up into your skull. White and black, and gray and a spot of green that you just know is the call button. Your thumb darts across the screen. Tapping once. Nothing. Then a little lower.

The screen color changes. 

"Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice messaging system." Whether or not you manage to press 'end call,' you have no idea. All you know is that the screen color has changed. 

He turned off his phone. It didn't even ring before sending you to voicemail this time; he doesn't want to talk to you. 

Maybe he's already found company in one of those girls from last night's rodeo. Or maybe he's entirely decided that it isn't worth entertaining you anymore, not even in the slightest. But that doesn't explain why he's left you some of his flannels, like the one that you're pulling off the bed. 

His scent has already begun to fade, but as you bury your nose into the fabric, it smells as if he's really here. A little bit of focus is all it takes for you to convince yourself that he's right next to you. A big shield, curled around you, right here on the floor. How his jaw would tickle your neck as he rests his head on your shoulder, waiting until you're ready to get up and run off into the sunset with him.

Hell, if only it were that easy. 

If you were to take off on your own, right here and right now, you wouldn't make it out of Wabang. You can't smell them, but every alpha in town will pick up on the pheromones wafting off of you, and you're in no state to defend yourself. 

Even without the heat, you wouldn't be safe. So long as your neck remains bare, you run the risk of being seen as a piece of meat to others, both alpha and beta. One little nip is all it would take for someone to bond you to them forever; so simple that someone can run up from behind and do it within a second. 

When you open your eyes again, the world around you is a little clearer. 

...strange. 

Waves of your heat should last at least an hour or more, not a few minutes. Standing, even with the uneasy sway of your body, shouldn't be this easy. Yet you've got the strength to walk yourself over to the window, still open from when you took the shirts off the ledge. The wind has carried rain into the room, scattering across the floor and nearly causing you to slip. Your only saving grace is the windowsill itself, your clammy hands gripping it tight as they can. 

Evidently, house shoes aren't meant to traverse the elements. Not even a little bit of water. 

As if to reveal its schemes to you, the wind blows once more. Cool air kisses your burning cheeks, the only indication of how much you've already adjusted to your heat. Now, if only your eyes could do something similar and adjust to the shift in lighting. 

It can't be anything past eight o'clock, but night has already fallen in its entirety, a thick blanket of black covering everything beyond the horizon. Even so, you can vaguely make out the shape of something sitting in your driveway. Blocky, but there are four bits of round metal catching in the dull light hanging outside of the barn. 

Something behind it moves. Noticeably lighter than the dirt and whatever that object is. 

Your eyes narrow. Fighting the urge to lean further out the window as the thing creeps across the drive. A growl rumbles out of your throat. Goosebumps prickle across your skin. It's growing closer. 

Clink.

Clink. 

Clink.

Wait a damn minute.

"Rhett?" 

A laugh twists through the air with all the grace and beauty of a ballerina. "Did I hear you growlin' at me?" 

"You shut off your phone when I tried calling you!" Is all your dumb, cloudy mind can come up with, pitchy and whiny like a child. 

"Shh, shh, I know," there he is. The dull porch light is the only thing illuminating his handsome face. 

His mouth opens like he's got something else to say, but it closes just as quickly, still searching for the right words. Then, trying again. "Ya remember what y' said in the barn 'bout runnin' away?"

"Yes, but..." pausing to look over your shoulder at the closed door before looking back at him. "What about your horse? And, and, your job and your things at the bunkhouse?"

"I got it all taken care of," he's a little closer now, enough for you to see the longer scruff clinging to his jaw. Soft. Not quite as wirey as when it's freshly shaved. "'m startin' on a ranch in Nebraska next Monday mornin'. Owner says he knows a guy with a house I can rent for us. It ain't all that much, but I—"

"Okay." You can't help yourself. He doesn't need to say another word. 

His eyes flutter. "Okay." Parroting you, as if to make sure the word is what he thinks it is. 

For a moment or three, it's quiet. Nothing but the crunch of dirt beneath his boots and the jingle of spurs that he's too lazy to take off. And now he's standing right in front of you, nothing but this window and a small shrub separating you. His nostrils flare, and you're certain that if it were brighter out, you'd be able to see the darkening of his pupils.

There's that smile. Sprawling across his face, wrinkling the corners of his eyes, pearly white teeth glistening like he's the star of a toothpaste commercial. Can hardly close his mouth as you lean in, lips brushing against his. 

Voices echo from down the hallway, squeezing in through the cracks. 

Shit.

Your feet are moving before you can even process what's happening. Scrambling across the piles of clothes that sit on your floor. Grabbing whatever you can. Shoving it into the still-open bags. T-shirts. Shoes. Loungewear. You don't know what else. What you have and what you're missing can all be sorted out later. All you know is that those voices are getting closer, and you can't get back to the window fast enough.

You're not even sure if Rhett hears them talking, but he's not wasting time by asking questions. Already pulling the duffel bag from your arms and turning back towards his truck. Lightning flickers as you run back to your bags. Heart hammering so loud that you hardly even notice the thunder that follows.

One of the voices says your name. A laugh rattles after it. 

A zipper fumbles between your fingers. Climbs halfway down the track. Then catches on the hem of something sticking out. You can't see what it is. 

"Fucking—" swearing under your breath. You pull it again. No give. 

It'll have to do. You're already scrambling to shove the bag into Rhett's open arms. Twisting back for the last one. Phone. Where is your phone? But the room is spiraling with your movement, and your eyes feel as if they're rolling around in your skull. Vision darting every direction except for where you want it to go.

There it is. On the floor, next to his shirt. Which part of the bag are you shoving them into? You don't know. 

The voices are closer. Three. Four. Five of them. Talking, laughing together as they edge near your room and your unlocked door. 

"Baby." Rhett's voice cuts through your thoughts like a knife. 

You don't think any time has passed, and yet, turning back to the window feels like the first time you've moved in minutes. The edges of your vision swim, merging into a haze of black as you scramble to him. 

You've gotten over this window before. He's seen you do it. But as you draw a leg up and over, his hands dart out and settle on your waist. Holding you steady, like you might fall to your death if he doesn't.

Rain pelts your face like tiny bullets, freezing on your superheated skin, and the voice in your head wonders if this is what freedom feels like. The rush buzzing through your veins. The big hand that squeezes yours, the mud that kicks up under your heels as you tear down the driveway. 

Wind squeals in your ears so loud that you nearly miss the clatter ring through the window. But it's too late for them to kick in the door. You're too far gone for them to catch. Because your feet are flying beneath you. And Rhett's right alongside you. And even the storm cannot conceal the glisten in his eye. The way he laughs, loud and triumphant and excited. 

It's the scene that's played through your head ever since you met. 

A voice calls out. Rhett splits off to slam his truck bed cover closed. You keep going.

Another one echoes through the storm. Deeper. Shouting your name.

"Stop!" 

But there's no leash to hold you back. No magical lasso that they can throw out and reel you back in with. Nothing stops you from pulling on the handle of the passenger door and leaping up into the seat, scrambling to slam it shut before someone can magically appear to wedge it open. 

Rhett's door squeals open. Vehicle swaying as he all but launches himself inside, fumbling for the gear shift. 

The truck jerks forward, engine roaring as the tires spin. The tail end jerks to the left, then the right, then back to the left again, gunning it down the driveway.  

Light pours through the front door, vaguely human blotches rushing out onto the porch. Even as you twist to look out the rear window, they're nothing more than tiny spots of color, growing smaller and smaller. The headlights of a truck flick on, but it's no use. Rhett's tires are already kissing the pavement of the main road.

You blink, and the house is gone; you might as well be a million and one mile away.

Rhett's head turns, just as yours does, eyes locking for the briefest of seconds. A little rumble of something escapes him, and it must be contagious because something a giggle is bubbling out of you, boiling into laughter.  

"That was," his mouth fumbles through his smile, "not how I planned it."

"What, were you hoping to get shot at, too?" Slow, you turn to settle back into the seat, wedged between him and the duffel bag crammed against the passenger door. 

Something sharp stabs in your lower belly. So sudden that it has your knees knocking together, eyes squeezing shut. As quickly as it happened, a wave of heat curls into its place, an uncomfortable wetness appearing between your legs.

A hand appears on your thigh. Hot. Clammy. "You okay?" 

"Heat." Is all you can say. 

That's all it is, really. Cramps. The one thing that manages to be worse than your heat itself. You can handle the overwhelming craving for an alpha between your legs, stretching you to your limit as he knots you over and over and over.

Ugh. You can't be thinking of this right now. 

Just like how you shouldn't be slouching to your left, cheek squishing Rhett's shoulder, big and warm, and right where he tends to spray his cologne. Faint from a day of wear, but there's still a peppery note lingering on him, overwhelmed by...something you can't describe. 

Something that makes the tip of your nose feel numb. 

Odd. It was there last night, too, but you don't recall it appearing any other time before that. There was certainly no trace of it in the barn or when he snuck into your bedroom afterward. Maybe your heat has warped your sense of smell again; it wouldn't be the first time. 

Rhett's foot shifts from the gas, gently pressing against the brakes for an upcoming red light, fingers audibly drumming against the steering wheel. 

Something white rolls across the floorboard, tiny somethings rattling around inside. Tumbling toward the front of the truck, then falling back to thunk against the toe of your muddy hose shoe. 

"'s just some vitamins," Rhett mutters, kicking them with his foot, sending the bottle thunking against the passenger door, cap popping open. A myriad of long, round blue pills spill out, decorating the floor. 

Huh. 

You've never seen blue vitamins before, their pastel color seeming to glow in the lights hanging overhead, Wabang's feeble attempt at keeping the darkness of night at bay. Curious, you lean down and reach out for the container. Your fingertips brush against the plastic on your first try, depth perception warped by the haze of your heat, but you get it on the second attempt.

Suppressants for Alphas only 250MG Rut Suppressants.

Your head turns to Rhett. His eyes dart from the label. To yours. Then, back to the road. 

The pieces click together so perfectly that you can hear them falling into place. Resonating through your empty skull until every fiber of your psyche echoes the same thing. 

"You started your rut," it slips out of your mouth like it's a scientific breakthrough. A discovery that will be written in the history books for millennia. 

His Adam's apple bobs, swallowing hard. A pink tongue darts out to wet his lips. "Didn't want ya thinkin' that was my reason for all this."

"I wouldn't have thought that Rhett," reaching for the hand that still rests on your thigh, fingers slotting between his, lightly squeezing it in your grasp. 

But his head just shakes, foot twitching against the gas pedal. The truck lurches, finally beginning to pull through that traffic light. "'s my fault your heat started." 

"I know." You already put that together. It explains everything: the odd timing and the sudden onset of it at the rodeo. That funny scent he's been wearing...it was from the pills. 

He looks at you again, teeth worrying his bottom lip, already swollen from the abuse. First, the licking, now the chewing. If you give it a minute, he'll start rubbing at them with his fingertips. For now, those heavy eyes dart back to the road. Guilty. "'n you're not upset 'bout that?" 

You're not entirely sure what to say to him. That the timing may be inconvenient, but you're happy to be here with him, running after a fever dream that might or might not work out? Do you admit that you wish this would have happened sooner? 

So many thoughts, and yet, not a word drifts down to your tongue. Instead, all you can think to do is this. Leaning over, left arm crammed between your bodies, as your right squirms across his belly, squeezing him. A poor attempt at a hug, but he softens under your touch all the same.

"It's not your fault," you murmur after a moment. The world around you is beginning to twist again, warping into a familiar blur, makes it hard to move your mouth. "You wouldn't hold it against me if my heat triggered your rut. Why would it be any different the other way around?"

You don't feel him move, but his lips find their way to your temple, lingering for a fleeting second. They would likely stay longer if driving didn't demand so much of his attention, hand idly working the steering wheel as you rumble through Wabang. If anyone has followed you this far, then surely they'll lose you here; too many winding streets for them to maintain a trail.

There's a part of you that wonders if you fell asleep because the next time your eyes open, the road is different. One moment, you're in town, and the next, you're on a dark, four-lane highway merely illuminated by the vivid beams of his headlights. 

Or maybe...maybe it's just two lanes because the lights on the dash seem to have doubled. Blurry and out of focus, no matter how much you try to blink your vision back into clarity. Shifting in the seat, you lift your head. 

And immediately let it thunk back onto Rhett's shoulder, vision twisting as if you've spent the past thirty minutes spinning in circles. "Ugh."

"There you are," Rhett hums. His hand drops down to squeeze your knee, giving it a little shake. "Did you know that ya snore?" 

"I do not!" Your squeal comes out as a hoarse croak. So foreign in your mouth that you hardly recognize it. 

An invisible bolt of lightning fires up your belly. 

Slick pools between your legs, staining your underwear and seeping down to your thighs. There's a shiver in your bones that wasn't there before, wavering like a leaf in high wind, without rhyme or reason. And there's this deep set ache in your lower stomach, reaching all the way to your weeping cunt, almost sore from lack of use, demanding attention that your fingers can't satisfy. 

"What's wrong?" Rhett's voice meets your ears like a ray of sunshine on a stormy day. 

Shame that it can't ward off the wave of cramps thundering through your lower belly. "Hurts," 

"Jus' a few more miles, 'kay?" His arm lifts, draping across your weary shoulders like a blanket. It's a fleeting touch that'll be forced to end at the next curve in the road, but it's nice to slouch into, head coming to rest against the side of his chest. Thin muscle flexes under your cheek, stretched so tightly that you can feel the bone lurking underneath. 

You wonder if he's just naturally built so wirey or if he'll be one of those alpha's that grow bulkier with a mating bond. It's hard to figure it out without being familiar with his family; if you knew the Abbotts personally, then maybe you'd have heard the stories of it happening with his father or brother. Maybe even a grandparent.

On its own, your hand shifts, crawling to rest on his knee. It's just as bony as the rest of him, and yet, conceals just enough muscle to cling onto the backs of those bulls. They're invisible at first glance, but if you squeeze, you can feel the softness of them, wrapped around hard bone. 

"Are you feelin' me up?" He chuckles, wiggling his leg back and forth as if to try and shake you off. 

Well, you weren't yet, but now that he's put the idea in your head...

Rhett sucks in a breath. His hips jerk, the truck lurching as his foot spontaneously presses against the pedal. You've felt him in your palm before, but fuck you don't remember him being this thick, twitching under the slightest bit of pressure. 

"Wait," he grunts. That arm is already slipping out from behind your shoulder, big hand encircling your wrist.

Maybe you should have asked first. "Did I—"

"No. God no," talking so fast that he stumbles over his words, "just...hurts." 

And yet, he makes no move to draw your hand away, letting it remain there as he focuses on keeping the truck on the road, grip so firm that you're almost certain he won't let you pull back. It's all you can do to ignore the way he throbs through his jeans, pulsing against your soft palm, testing the will of the zipper confining him.

It must take a year for him to begin turning off onto an exit, dark and poorly lit by a scattered array of frail lamp posts. The road thins, and all of a sudden, neon flickers to life—a hotel sign. Logo written in such gaudy cursive that you can hardly read its name. 

A whine rattles out of you, squirming impossibly closer. 

There's a blip in your memory. 

You don't remember when he pulled into the parking lot or when you got out of the truck. But the air is cool around your ankles, and his arm is tight around your waist, forcing you to remain upright. You can't feel your feet moving, but you're stumbling along next to him anyway, head hanging low, too heavy for the rest of your body. 

"Where...?" 

"Almost there." His voice is on your left. Damn this stupid heat, why was that such a surprise to you? 

A shrill beep sounds. Green flashes. 

A bed.

It's as if a switch has flipped. The door falls shut behind you, but your feet are glued to the floor; the edges of your vision still twist, but the world around you has become noticeably...still. Surreal, even. Any moment now, you're waiting to blink away the sight of this drab little hotel and find yourself standing in the four familiar walls of your bedroom.

But as you lift your head, gaze crawling up Rhett's chest like a hungry animal, that doesn't happen. The sight of him doesn't begin to fade, his body remaining firm against yours, even as your eyes dare to meet. 

According to the romance novels and the films you've spent so much time watching, you're supposed to be the disheveled one here. Hell, maybe you are. But those films never depicted how pretty an alpha can be when their rut has set in. Freshly bitten lips, messy hair, and rosy cheeks, gazing at you with those glistening eyes. It's as if you hold his entire world in the palm of your hand.  

Slow, you twist, careful to mind where your numb feet fall, greedy hands roaming up the thick expanse of his chest, sculpted from a lifetime of back-breaking labor. Then, wandering up his neck, slowing to feel the vein bulging there, chasing it up into the soft hair clinging to his jaw. Your thumb swipes across his bottom lip, watching how it squishes under the pressure.

His eyelashes flutter; you wonder if he was a butterfly in his past life, still clinging to old habits. It's a question you'll have to ask him later when you're not halfway into leaning in and catching those thin lips in yours. 

There goes your head again, swirling 'round and 'round, set into motion by the hum that rattles out of him. One little peck. Your hands drop back down to feel the swell of his chest. A second. His arms begin to wind around you. A third, and the heel of his palm is pressing into the small of your back, and you're crumpling.

It's like a freshly knocked-over candle. The smokey leather of his scent, haunted by the fading chemical that temporarily overrode the pheromones radiating off of him. Invisible to the nose at first, but the fire is already beginning to spread until it's roaring so bright that you reckon flames might come out of your ears. 

Your arms coil around his thin waist, cinching him in with a strength you thought you'd lost. A stray foot slots between yours, his chest pushing into you, and the room is spinning. Caught by a mattress that squeals and bounces with your combined weight, unprepared for such a landing. 

"You 'megas sure get strong when ya want somethin'," Rhett's hair tickles your forehead as he settles on top of you. Perfectly slotted between your parted legs, jeans deliciously rough against your exposed thighs, pajama shorts hardly doing anything to conceal you. 

A little too curious, your hips roll, eager to find out if you can feel the bulge of his cock. 

You can.

Worse. He felt it too, already beginning to swivel forward, a foreign pressure appearing against your weeping cunt. Something jolts up your spine. Doesn't necessarily hurt; more of a reminder of what you don't have.

"Like you're so innocent in all this," your words come out rushed, riding the coattails of a shaky breath. 

He doesn't have anything to say to that, maybe a little shy as he nuzzles his nose against your cheek. A stark contrast to the bold hips that press into you, so eager and desperate to feel you. It's like the first time you crossed that boundary, ground down on each other until neither could take it anymore. 

Except, this time, you've no reason to stop there. 

No family. No concern about high-dollar alphas or uncomfortable, fashionable outfits. These peeling walls couldn't care less about who you coil your legs around. This bed isn't going to fuss at you for spreading your legs to a scruffy ranch hand without a pedigree. 

You're the only one who cares about the way he guides himself with his nose, blindly wandering back to meet your mouth. Kisses you with all the fervor of a man who's just found everything he's ever wanted. 

His hands are everywhere, cradling your face, skirting down your sides, and wandering up under your shirt, callouses catching on the soft skin of your belly as he roams beneath. Then he's above your shirt again, dragging up the swell of your breasts, on his way to grip your jaw.

It's so hard to stay still. Your fingers find their way to his flannel, already trying to work it open. It's so much harder with your eyes closed, shivering hands struggling to remain still. Fuck, this button just doesn't want to move. Stubbornly caught in the hole, refusing to slip through, even as you pull—

It snaps off. Lands atop your heaving chest. Rhett draws back, already looking down at it. 

"I'm sorry—"

"Don't be." The corner of his lip lifts, flashing a sharp canine. Cocky, as he reaches for the shirt, buttons flying as he yanks it open. "'s kinda hot."

And just like that, he's leaning back onto his haunches, hands skimming down your sides until his fingers can comfortably hook under your shorts. Obedient, your hips lift, knees cinching up to help get them past your ankles. They're gone in an instant, underwear and all.

Is he trying to take his time? Probably.

Does that stop you from impatiently pinching his belt buckle open and yanking on the zipper? No. No, it does not. 

"Alright, alright," only Rhett Abbott can laugh this prettily, cherry red cheeks and all. "'n here I am tryin' to be a gentleman." 

You and your swirling head know that he has to pull away to get those jeans off. They need to come off, but you're already whining for him to come back. Some primal, involuntary noise that you don't recall making before, pathetic as a wounded animal.

Rhett's head jerks up. "It's okay, it's okay," he's already coming back. You knew he would, but the dumb part of your brain argues that he wouldn't have unless you made that pitiful little noise. 

But regardless of the reason, his big, warm body is slotting between your legs, his big chest flexing as he crawls up to meet your mouth. It hardly even counts as a kiss, more of a pressure that serves to remind you he's there. He's here. With you, and he's not going anywhere else. 

"I ain't goin' anywhere," he murmurs as if he's heard every silent worry racing through your dumb little mind. Can't seem to think about anything except for him and his scent and the feel of him against you and what he might be doing next.

His head dips, nuzzling you with his temple. It's the simplest damn thing, but hell, if it doesn't suck the air right out of your lungs. The innately primal drag of his scent glands against your skin, marking you like a prize he's fought tooth and nail to keep. Perfect in every sense of the term, everything you've imagined and more. 

You don't know what made your eyes drift down, but one way or another, they do, and—

"Jesus, Rhett." You've been anticipating this going a number of ways, but good lord, you didn't have this on your laundry list of ideas, what-ifs, and daydreams. 

Even when you were greedily decorating your imaginary version of him, you never quite pictured his cock to be this fucking thick. So damn heavy that it hangs between his legs, hovering just above your belly, the faintest swell of his knot already beginning to show. 

His chuckle almost sounds devilish; knows damn well what he's got and what it could do to you. "Don't think much of me is gonna fit." Understatement of the fucking century. 

No wonder he never let you touch him; he probably thought it would scare you away. In your right mind, maybe it would, but you can almost feel the hearts blossoming in your eyes, already beginning to reach for him. Your hand freezes midway—maybe you should ask first. He still might not...

He's gently taking you by the wrist, guiding you the rest of the way. This is your first ride in this particular rodeo, but your fingers wrap around his base as if you've been doing it for decades. Oh, he's so much bigger than he looked, makes your hand appear tiny as it glides up the length of him. It's enough to have your heart jumping in your chest, pitter-pattering with a newfound vigor. 

Wetness pools between your legs. So much of it that you can feel the way it runs down your thighs, and you just can't help but angle him down, dragging his fat cock head through your weeping folds. 

He groans. 

Your vision blurs. 

The world might fall apart.

A sudden shiver takes hold of you. Quaking like you're being rattled from the inside out, another wave of slick drooling out of your poor, unused cunt, delirium settling at the forefront of your mind. Saliva drips from the corner of your mouth, the edges of your vision blurring to the point of disappearing entirely.

"Shit..." One of you says it. You're not sure who.

It's as if you're the gasoline and Rhett is the lighter, setting you ablaze with the slightest hint of a flame. You don't realize you're still wearing a shirt until after it's peeled over your head, and even then, the loss of it does nothing to soothe the invisible wildfire claiming every inch of your skin.

Oh, and you think he might have it as bad as you do. Noses and chests crashing together, pinning your arm between your bellies, his cock rutting against your cunt like it's always belonged there. He whines into your mouth, jerking forward, the underside of his length massaging against your swollen clit. 

"Fuckin'..." he loses track of his words, panting against your mouth like a dog in the sun, "hell, 'm tryna go slow, but—"

Your body jerks up off the bed. Desperate. Needy. Aching for more than just a brush of him against you. The slow glide of him isn't enough. More. You need so much more. But it's hard to speak when your mouths clash, tongues tangling so sloppily that calling it a kiss would be an insult to the word. 

"Go." Panting against his lips. "Slow." One more word. One more word. "Later." 

Rhett draws back, spit-slick lips glistening in the light. The corner of his eye twitches. As if set off by it, you involuntarily clamp down around nothing, needily seeking something that isn't there yet. The emptiness is nauseating. 

"Rhett," you plea, because why in God's name is he not in you yet?

Dumb, stupid, well-meaning alpha. Always has to be taking his time and treating you like you're made of glass, ready to shatter at any given moment. But you're made of the same material as he is, fully capable of rolling over and—

Teeth sink into the scruff of your neck. Every bone, muscle, and fiber in your body goes still. You're stuck like this. Face down, trapped beneath his body, ass high in the air for him. Big arms cage your waist, his chest resting against your back like you're a pair of wild animals—no grace or sophistication about it. 

"'m tryin' to be careful with you, darlin'," his growl is muffled by your own flesh, still caught between his sharp teeth, "y' don't want me bruisin' this little pussy of yours, now do ya?" 

And as if to punctuate his sentence, his hips twitch toward, cock slipping between your slick-soaked thighs. Draws back, angle shifting just enough to have his blunt tip pressing against your weeping entrance, opening you the slightest fraction, then slipping out to slide through the folds of your cunt instead. 

The voice in your head suggests it's a threat. A reminder of what he's capable of. But your body says otherwise, already pressing back into him despite the teeth holding you pliant. Thick waves of want pulsing through your veins, thoughts aligning to echo the same damn thing. You need more. 

A cramp takes hold of your lower belly, a stabbing sort of sensation that makes you wince. Whatever primal instinct lingering in your genetics is livid.

"It hurts." You cry in a pitchy tone you've never heard yourself use before. 

"'m gonna fix it," his mouth reels away from your neck, licking over the irritated skin. "I promise."

Again, you push back. Hands digging into the bed, moving with your whole body. Sharp teeth sink back into your neck, his arms coiling around you, pulling tight until you can no longer move. 

That pressure appears again, and this time, it doesn't disappear. The unmistakable sensation of his fat cock head pressing into your pussy. He feels so much different than the silicone of your toys, warm and pulsing and so much fucking thicker; you're quite literally made to take a cock like his, loose and slick with your heat, and yet there's still an ache blooming. 

It feels impossible. There's no way...there's no way that's going to fit. 

Oh, but the feel of his tip alone has you gushing around him, an obscene amount of slick waterfalling down your thighs and onto the mattress below. He groans, low and heavy, his heated breath tickling the back of your ear.

"Rhett..." 

"I'm here," he's murmuring, and again, he's soothing the bite with his tongue. You wonder if this is what it would feel like for him to mate you. For him to sink his teeth into the scent gland on the side of your neck and let instinct take over, lick the wound clean, smother you in his scent, and then bear his pretty, pale neck for you to take for yourself. 

You can't think about it for long. Not with his cock sinking into your aching heat, filling every centimeter of you, so big that he presses against each and every little nerve without needing to try. It's as if you're being split wide open, forced to do nothing but relax and take it like a good little omega. 

A whimper escapes you, pitchy and involuntary. Set off by the drag of his tip against a particularly sensitive spot. 

"'s that where you like it?" He coos, rumbling into your ear. It's all you can do to tilt your head back, your cheek bumping into his nose. So close, not another word spoken.

It's like being broken apart and then built back up again. Fuck you can feel him up in your throat. The stretch of him is so much that it aches. Your mouth falls open at the feel of him inching deeper and deeper, pushing the air from your lungs, winding your muscles tight. Head spinning with a gentleness that wasn't there before as if your own body knows that it no longer needs to fuss about an alphas cock. 

The solid bone of his hips presses into the swell of your ass. Fully in you now. His heated breath fans out over your shoulder, heavy and carrying the faintest noises along with it. 

You'd thought that you'd let go of the breath caught in your throat, but...but...

"Fuck, look at you," the soft scruff of his jaw tickles your naked shoulder, such a foreign sensation to feel him there. So unfair. You should have known this feeling years ago. "So fuckin' pretty." 

His hands roam up your sides, callouses catching on the smooth skin, dragging just right. A shiver ripples up your spine, body involuntarily falling forward, only to sway back into him. 

Stars sparkle. Your legs nearly come out from under you. "Shit, Rhett..." 

So much. There's so much of him. In you and around you and on top of you and crowding every single one of your senses. There's no hotel.  No concern about how terrible everyone at home may feel. No earth around you. Not a single star in the galaxy. Just Rhett, Rhett, Rhett. 

"Move," you whisper as kisses press to the length of your spine. One after the other, like he's trying to love on each and every bone there. 

You squirm forward, then back again, hardly enough to even count as a movement, but the underside of his cock drags right against a nerve that damn near takes your voice away. His hand flattens against your belly, but he doesn't hear you. 

"Move," you try again, craning your head to look at him. Dark blue eyes lift, looking back at you, still peppering your back with love. "Please, Rhett—"

His hips snap into you. Pressing hard.

Your elbows crumple, falling face first into the pillow, but he just keeps fucking pressing into you, as if you could possibly take any more. A whine sparks out of you, twisting to expose your neck to him. He chuckles at that, low and dark, tongue poking past his lips to run over the delicate scent gland hiding there. 

 Then, slowly, he begins to move. Drawing back at a snail's pace, his forearms caging your waist as if to keep you from running away when he pushes back into you. Shivers run through your thighs, already beginning to clench from the feeling of him inside you alone. 

You've dreamed of this too many times for the newness to remain for long, squirming beneath him, fighting to keep your eyes on his face. Flushed and red in the cheeks, has yet to say anything, but it's easy to tell that he's feeling it, too. 

Those careful back and forths are already beginning to find their confidence, like he's slowly realizing that his cock isn't going to break you into two, no matter how much it feels like it will. Hips hitting your ass hard enough to send you jolting, a surprised little 'uh' breaking past your lips. 

"Only goddamn omega in the state of Wyomin'," he muses aloud, nails dragging over the side of your ass, making you squirm against him, "n here ya are, gettin' mounted by a cowboy." 

Impatient, he snaps into you. Heavy balls smacking into your clit. Electricity jumps up your belly. You hardly recognize what's happening. But you're fluttering around him. Heart lurching in your chest. Slick gushing down your thighs. Crying out as you suddenly cum on his cock. Eyes rolling back into your head and all. 

"Fuck, that's...fuck,"  Rhett hisses through grit teeth, but he's not stopping. No, no, he's not even slowing down. 

Shocks fire through your nerves with every motion. The kiss of his fat head against your nerves. The drag of his length along your trembling walls. The slight swell of a knot catching on your swollen entrance. But it feels so good that you can't do anything but hold still, clenching around him like a goddamn vice.

"Can't believe I never—mmh," his head falls forward, thunking against your shoulder, hips rolling into you in languid motions. "Can't believe I went this long without breedin' this pretty lil pussy of yours." 

Air catches in your throat. Cunt sent into a spasm from his words alone. "If you keep talking, I'm...I'm..." You haven't got an ending for that sentence, left open-ended and hanging. 

Kisses lead up the side of your neck, working their way to your jaw. You tilt your head, trying your best to meet him. The angle puts a strain on your neck, unable to bend any further. Even as you push your hands into the mattress and try to force yourself backward, you can't...quite...

The room shifts. Falling forward into the pillow. Rhett's heavyweight collapses on top of you. Cool air greets your swollen cunt, suddenly empty. 

"Well, that didn't..." Rhett's laugh is a melody in your ear, his smile so big that you can feel it against your cheek, "that didn't work too well." 

Between the emptiness in your skull and the sudden change in position, figuring out where you start and where he ends is a...challenge. He starts moving at the same time that you do. His knee awkwardly slots behind your thighs. Your knuckles accidentally smack into his jaw. And he's moving toward you, but you're twisting against the mattress, and your noses are smacking into each other—

"There's your pretty face," he grins, a little too cheerful. You've barely got time for your back to settle against the cheap mattress before he leans in.

The kiss is a little too innocent for what's going on below. Soft, chaste pecks. A sharp contrast to the way he settles between your parted legs, heavy cock bumping into you. Your hand darts between your bellies, blindly guiding him toward your sex. 

It's easier the second time. The gentle glide of him, chasing away that infuriating emptiness as he sinks back into you, balls bumping into your ass. So much better. This is so much better. You're already wandering, hands roaming across the broad expanse of his shoulders, seeking the perfect spot to cling on to him.

"Look at that..." he breathes, and you don't need to guess to know what he's referring to, "gonna have y' limpin' before the nights over." 

It's the kind of thing that has you shivering. The obscene sight of his thick cock disappearing between your legs stretched to your absolute limit. Impossible to look away from, even when he draws back by an inch or two, testing the angle as he sinks back in. Almost effortless, he nudges against a bundle of nerves. Sets it ablaze like a match on gasoline.

"Fuck. I can feel ya clenchin' round me, sweetheart," his eyelashes flutter, hair falling into his red face, swinging in synchrony with the lazy rocking of his body, easing in and out of you. "'s it feel that good?"

Greedy, you reach for his biceps, squishing the girth of them, muscle flexing beneath your fingertips. "Uhuh," speaking dumbly. Not another thought crosses your mind. 

There can't possibly be a bad position with Rhett, but this is something else entirely. Feels so nice to wrap your legs around his hips, heels digging into his ass, clinging to his big, warm body. Chest to chest, so close that his scruffy jaw tickles your cheek, big blue eyes threatening to drown you if he gets any closer.

Your mouths fall open, meeting for another one of those kisses that insult the romantics attached to such a word. Nothing but lewd tongue and saliva running down your chins, panting into each other, breath so hot that it ought to fog up the room. And you just can't help it, not with the press of his cock against your nerves, so damn big that missing them is impossible.

He's too quiet. Stiffling little noises in the back of his throat, extinguishing them before they can make it past the tip of his tongue. One of your hands is slithering up his arm. Wandering across the expanse of his shoulders, fingers tangling into the loose curls at his nape and pulling. 

A whine cuts through the air. Muffled at the end, but it's there nonetheless.

Words collide in your head. Tumbling down onto your drooling tongue. "Wanna hear you." 

It should take more convincing than that, but for some reason, that's all that it takes for him to give you what you want. A little noise soars out of him with all the perfection and catchiness of the new biggest hit playing on the radio. 

You think you can cum from that sound alone. 

This is so surreal. 

The nuzzle of his nose against yours, panting against your lips. The flex of muscle in his belly, as he draws himself back and forth, rutting into you, slow, yet meeting your body hard enough to have your back jostling against the mattress. You think you catch the sound of your name, twisted into the symphony of noises rattling around the room.

"I love you," it slips out of you with crippling ease; has been sitting on your tongue for so, so long that you forgot it was there at all. 

His lips wobble up into a smile. There's a glassiness in his eye that wasn't there before. "And I love you." 

He melts. 

Falls into you, even. 

Nothing but sweaty skin and wandering hands and peppered kisses everywhere that they'll fit. Up the side of your clammy neck, atop his burning forehead. The base of his knot is starting to swell, catching on your entrance with every stroke, tugging just enough for it to rip a gasp out of you. 

"'m close," he whispers, just a little secret to be shared between you and him. Not another soul is allowed to know of this little slice of heaven situated atop this old hotel mattress. "You gotta...baby, if y' don't let me go, 'm gonna..."

"Knot." Blurting. Your eyes flutter. "Please, I want—"

He hums. Doesn't need to open his mouth for you to understand that he gets it. No fuss about the crippling lack of a condom or how you really, truly can't go back from this, instead blindly following your request with crippling loyalty. Yours. Your alpha. The one who would follow you to the ends of the earth without a word. 

Even if you wanted to, it's too late to change your mind because his knot is too swollen to slip out of you. Weary, unstable thrusts are forced into an unfamiliar shallowness, but it's forcing an angle that has him rolling directly into every little nerve. You can't stop the hand that dives between your bodies, fingertips pressing to your clit in a familiar fashion.

Just a little more. Just a little more.

An involuntary clench is all it takes to have him spilling over the edge. Face falling into the crook of your neck, cumming with a choked cry that rings through your head. Fuck nobody ever told you that you'd be able to feel his knot swelling inside of you. Stretching you beyond your limit, hot cum spilling into your pussy, not a drop of it spilling out. 

Without warning, your back twitches up off the bed, cumming without warning. Head thrown back. Heart pounding against your chest. Clenching like a vice around Rhett's twitching cock. You might be muttering his name because you can feel your mouth moving, but you're too far away to hear what's leaving your lips. Entirely lost in the thundering clouds looming in the skies. 

However long you're up there, you have no idea, but at some point, Rhett finds the strength to settle onto his forearms. Pressing kisses to your lower jaw and trailing up to your temple, shiny with your scent. No two descriptions of it have been the same, but you like to believe his description is closest to reality. A fresh strawberry pie, sitting on the windowsill after the rain has ended. 

You can't help yourself, his neck is right there. The gland exposed to you like he's trying to show it off, so sensitive that he gasps at the nip of your teeth. 

He hums, leaning back just far enough to get a look at your face. Whatever he finds looming behind your sparkling eyes is enough to have a smile contorting his lips. Then, he tilts his head to the side, properly bearing his neck to you.

You know what he's offering. Asking. The quietest proposal you've ever heard. 

Logic suggests that you wait. Give yourselves time to grow together. Adjust to the discomfort of a collar in exchange for the opportunity to take things slow. The world won't end if you step off onto the well-worn path of tradition; if it's worked for everyone else, then it should work for you.

But you've done enough waiting. Your heart made its decision a long time ago. 

The movies made this seem like some blinding moment of passion. The moment your teeth sink into the delicate scent gland, the world should explode into colors that you've never seen before. The answers to the universe ought to dance around your fingertips, hearts springing from your eyes. 

But all Rhett does is giggle. 

Gidy, like a little kid on the playground, as he cranes his head to find the matching spot on your neck. Soothing it with his tongue before his canines break the skin. 

Blood rushes to your face so quickly that you can hear it in your ears. Your heart jumps, and maybe it grows the slightest bit warmer, but...nothing changes. It's still you, Rhett, and his big, strong body shielding yours from the world. These hands that cradle your cheeks are still the ones that you've known all these years. He still nuzzles your noses together, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

Voices rattle in the hallway. Something—no, someone, bumps against the door, her giggles intertwining with the laughter of a much deeper voice. 

"Mine." 

You don't recognize...

was that you?

 "'re you growlin' again?" Rhett asks, in that playfully accusatory tone, shoulders already shaking with a laugh.

You don't realize your chest is rumbling until it stops. "No." Blinking. No, that wasn't...

"Didn't know y' were this possessive of me," there's no arguing with him; he knows what he's heard. Already beginning to cover your cheek in kisses, his body shifting between your legs. That knot is still snug, tying your bodies together for the next half-hour at minimum. 

"I'm not possessive," you try, but it's hard to be convincing when he's looking at you with those pretty blue eyes like you're his whole world and then some. Maybe that's your hopeful heart talking, or maybe it's truly what you saw. 

"Yes, you are," amusement lacing his tone, "'s cute." 

If heaven's a moment, then you must be dead. 

There are too many things in this damn kitchen.

Scratch that, too many fucking cookies. Some still rising in the oven, and others are scattered on plates across the counter, with their stupid, sweet aroma that does nothing but give you a mild migraine. This idea was better in theory than in execution. You'll be damned if you get ambitious and decide to bake treats for everyone on the ranch again. 

A warmth greets your nose. Leather and something smokey sweet, like a marshmallow roasting over an open campfire. Just a hint of it at first, carrying in through the back door and swirling around the room like a loose tornado, growing in tune with the boots thunking toward you.

Clink.

Clink.

Clink.

"Are you ever taking those spurs off?" You chirp, too focused on setting this tray on top of the stove to look in his direction. If you drop these, your life might end on the spot.

Arms coil around your waist, the thick muscle rippling as he draws you back by an inch, your back coming to rest against a sturdy chest. Lips press to your cheek. One. Two. Three kisses. Leading down to his favorite grand finale: the scar on your neck. 

A shiver ripples up your spine. 

"Gon' have to leave soon," He doesn't answer your question. Probably because you already know the answer; he was going to, but he forgot. "'s a long drive, 'member?"

"Hang on, hang on." Placing the oven mitt off to the side, you reach for a cookie. Still warm, but no longer a burn hazard. Blindly, you lift it to your shoulder until he leans forward to take it with his mouth. "You go pro, and all of a sudden, you're insufferable again."

A chuckle rumbles out of him at that, but he's temporarily muzzled, the short hair on his chin tickling your skin when he nears the end of the cookie. His lips wrap around the tips of your fingers, stealing away the final piece. 

"Like you ain't got a thing for showin' me off after a good ride," his arms tighten as he speaks, fully securing you against him now. 

...and drawing your ass right into a familiar pressure. Don't need to look to know that you're pressing yourself back into the bulge in his jeans, heavy and looking for fun that you, unfortunately, don't have time for. "Are we still talking about bull riding?" 

Twisting in his arms is easy. You've done it so many times that you ought to know that you should draw your head back, but your noses collide anyway. Breaking the habit isn't worth it. 

"Dunno," he's got chocolate on the corner of his lip, and even his smile cannot distract you from it, "you tell me." 

This is a routine you've danced a hundred times. The pre-rodeo adrenaline that has him crawling all over you like some kind of love bug, desperate to relieve the tension building in his muscles. 

Relieving it is only temporary; you should know. You rode him within an inch of his life last month, and he still jumped the fence to get to you, the camera chasing him and touting you to the world as Rhett Abbott's mate—his omega, at that. So much for organically reaching out and introducing your family to the man you left everything for. 

You still need to answer the bombardment of texts that have been rotting in your phone. 

Careful to avoid the hot pan, your hand darts back toward the counter, feeling around until you find something warm and round. Making extra of these has been your best idea yet.

"Then we're talking about both," you pull him in for a kiss. Swift. Chaste. And before he can lean in and seek out any more, you shove the cookie into his mouth. 

Your shirt is gone before you can leave the kitchen. 

By the time your back hits the bedroom door, his hands are disappearing below your waistband, and sickly sweet chocolate is the only thing you can taste on his lips. There are things to do. Places to be. Bags to load into the car and a map to figure out.

But you fear you've grown addicted to these grumbling kisses of his, crave the warmth of his body against yours and all of the other things that come with him. It's a hunger you've never been able to satisfy, and not another alpha will do. Not one with money. Or someone that your family hand-picked. Or someone with a fancy cologne crafted by a brand you can't pronounce the name of.

Just this one.